T.S. Eliot: "Last year's words belong to last year's languages and next year's words await another voice.”
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exactly.
the old words are salty, unexpectedly coarse, unrefined and unsuitable for staying and surely not for going. The words are stamped with an expiration date.
the evening is calendar-redlined, wobbly but outlined & finite, but the words are resisted, non- transferable. Stale.
and I drink and wonder whose voice, with artifice of a new vocabulary, all next year’s words, will bid me farewell and will I understand the spoken sounds of a new long division