What do I care for the moment of my greatness
my hair may be gray
or it may be past
or it may be there
is not memory ‘twill last
And I need not sigh too long
about it
I was never convinced there was too much
to my genius
I had a moment,
the better part of some year
long ago
not quite half a life ago
It is not for that I write
And this is bright modernity
of a fashion now so dated now so stiff
the contrivances of ages past
always seem so and I know
that no memory will last
Having just realized that post
modernity is passing too
I thought I’d sketch a few lines on the unnamed
aftermath that is upon us now to you
what
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