The Spirit of Dilibz ~ Tuesday, September 22, 2026

I am sorry but I do not believe in love

as an anarchist and an atheist, I wait
mostly for revolution or my final breath

so much for politics or my own death, I live
on my own terms with my own decisions, this life
remains absurd as the futility of war
raw images of death and destruction, a broth
yellow with yolk for egg drop soup yet red with blood

bitter almonds, dark blue enamel, cyanide
until next time, when we meet up again in France
to remember all the lives lost to fascism

I do not know if you have read The Little Prince

do I care if you speak words full of sarcasm
only if you do harm as you do when you bleed

not now, honey, you can see I have a headache
only if I could run away, this world is hell
to pretend it is all a dream is delusion

believe what they tell you to think, I see an oak
each to their own in the grand scheme of things but time
leaves nothing but sweeps away specks of dust, too small
invisible to the naked eye, a lesion
emerges on the surface of the earth, a bruise
venture into the lava pit, into your tomb
each to their own, sepulchral, as dark and gloomy

in a nutshell, eternity is my kingdom
not that I am a king inside a shell, clammy

love holds hands and kisses sweet lips, all this seems dim
only because I am old now, with youth to praise
venture day by day, moment by moment, to find
eloquence is nothing but words, crushed on demand

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