Little Bits of Life

It is as if his mind is now

an avatar that listlessly extends

a hand to little bits of life –

soft and peeping, sighing things

which don’t require more

than random slices of attention.

Belief in anything is held

in temperate suspension –

a mild banality of drift. It is as if

he’s made some final shift,

though we don’t know to what.

He occupies a comfortable rut

where And is the indifferent

equivalent of But.





.