Twenty Seventeen
Twenty Seventeen
Who am I on January 2nd,
Am I who I was on November 1;
More dominoes have fallen,
How quickly, increasing, unceasing.
So deep in loneliness gripping;
Hungover without the wine,
And blind to what meditation
Reveals quickly, and as quickly steals.
I rattle between the crash of symbols,
Concentration stolen away;
Who am I on January 2nd?
Let the future have its way.
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