Contemporary
       

How could it be a bit more contemporary? Something with an
iPad, a mobile phone, something must be thought? What was

made of words, derailed in the same language, where spelling
was the guide and everybody was doing something. Because

a lot, very much a lot, appears hopeless to me. How and when
did I get derailed? In the r elatively dark, beyond the longest night,

in the direction of a new year, the language did not work for me.
I was the emptiness. I was reliant on cripple sentences. I was
down and tired. Because something was there finally and finished.

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Copyright © 2018 Arno Kramer All rights reserved
from Morningrustle
Salmon Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission