then came the question and ıt was about time.
the answer came back and ıt was long.
the house ıt was built by some man ın a rhyme,
but whatever came of his talented son?
who wrote me a dialogue set to a tune?
always you told me of being alone,
except for the stories about god and you,
and do you still live there ın buffalo?
they put up the walls with no more to say,
nobody stopped to ask why ıt was done.
the stream was too far and the rain was too high,
so ınto the city the river did run.
because of the architect the buildings fell down,
smothered or drowned all the seeds which were sown.
ı wish ı were somewhere, but not ın this town.
maybe the ocean next time around.
ı seem to remember the face and the name,
but ıf ıts not you ı wont care.
ı know of changes, but nothing would change you
to theo the sailor who sings ın his lair.
and then ıll turn and he wont be there,
dusky black windows to light the dark stair,
candles all gnarled ın the musty air
all without flames for manys the year.
Ekleyen : Ali İhsan Candemir