Reviews

The suicide at the piano by Rainer Schulte

nhcfriedman's review

1.0

I wanted to like this but some of it had me laughing out loud.

Preoccupation

Each morning
The impotence of quicksand
Lurks in my eyes.

I measure my days
By unread newspapers
On the shelves.

At night I engrave
The wounds of the day
On white paper.

Words without blood.