(untitled) -- a collection of experimental poetry [COMPLETE]

autumn's gone forever OR pages torn out of a heart

poets are the unfortunate few
who willingly distance themselves
from momentary beauty,
from the constant flow
and motion of life
(four raindrops of water
swishing in a stone cup)

and when the poet is dying
all they have are stacks and stacks
of disorganised papers and notes

and they can't remember autumn
they only remember
writing about some kind of tree
they remember finding
feuillemort in a thesaurus
they remember thousands of cigarettes
and the sharp smell of coffee
and the yearlong identical darkness
of working through another
sleepless midnight

they remember all of these things
but autumn is gone