
my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing
which touch and taste and smell
and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels
i perform squirms of chrome …
nevertheless …
am being altered
that i slightly am becoming
something a little different,
in fact myself
hereupon helpless i utter …
– E.E. Cummings –
Ph : Ben & Zie






