We are some disjointed guitars. <br />When the wind blows through <br />discordant lines and sounds awaken <br />in the chainlike strings that dangle. <br /> <br />We are some incredible antennae <br />rising like fingers into chaos, <br />on their tips the infinite resounds <br />but soon to crash all broken down. <br /> <br />We are some diffused senses, <br />with no hope to assemble. <br />In our nerves the whole of nature tangled. <br /> <br />In our body, in our memory tormented. <br />Repulsed by things and poetry <br />is the envied refuge.<br /><br />Kostas Karyotakis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-are-some-disjointed-guitars/
