Something Of Crimes
This is something predictably lost
Among those who are ready to lose:
Try to capture it – at any cost,
Try to hold it – without the loops,

And without those prisons or cells
That your mind is so quick to construct,
And without denials – those bells,
That sound blindly amidst cataracts!..

Just to listen is seemingly felt
Through the touches of exquisite tastes:
What be lost, is so potent to melt,
Leaving holes in a metaphor’s chest.

Warmer hardness – and harder is warmth,
Cooling down for every prevent:
Is it going to pay off, the Worth, –
Looking forward to borrow a rent?..

Credit faithfulness accumulates,
And in line it with distance performs,
Sociality pathos through gates
Leads for nothing, – and blowing horns

Meet procession, the Losers’ Triumph, –
Of the Meaning, the Weight and the Time, –
Smashing bottles on battering rams,
Raising cups to Success of the Crimes!..