How many letters make up that old word 'hell'?
Can you count them as they whirl round in that place beyond what's gone?
Can you feel that sense of falling, going to fall, or having fell?
So you want to know the answer? Then don't count - its always one.
So we're left with just this question: which letter produces 'hell'?
Did you get to it already, has it rung your inner bell?
For those who cannot count or do not care to question why,
Hell - singular or plural - always was and will be: I.
That was the final verse, so what the fuck is happening here?
You've over-shot the end, the stop, passed into empty space.
So for some light relief I've made this one-liner appear:
The zero met the eight and said 'Give me your belt, my dear'.
I sat thinking for several minutes about what to write here about this verse, but in the end, I thought, I will just keep it to myself, no one will ever know. In an abstract aesthetic perspective, that's the best product of the process
ReplyDeletehow profound...
ReplyDeletefar out, near in, sideways here and now
ReplyDelete