Amiri Baraka, from ‘Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note’
And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.
Nobody sings anymore.
And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter’s room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there…
Only she on her knees, peeking into
Her own clasped hands
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theelusivemrhunt reblogged this from fuckyeahlanguage and added:
I count the holes they leave. Nobody sings anymore.
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