Between Marx and more Marx

A generation caught between

friends and acquaintances;

Between love and making out

Between Marx and more Marx

I am the lost one

The Rains Drive in a New Fever

that much fresh earth i cannot accredit

that much fleshy mount mind hesitates to climb.

The rains drive in a new fever.

As the falling rain trickles among the stones

memories come bubbling out.

It's as if the rain had pierced my temples.

Streaming, streaming chaotically

come memories:the reedy voice of the servant

telling me tales of ghosts.