new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
What crime do your hands commit, I wonder Vassilis? The crime of passivity, a failure to act or is it the failure of over-reacting?
All quite pertinent and thought-provoking questions, Elisabeth but the answer is far more pedestrian: This is simply a poem about the poet sitting down and "killing time" i.e., trying to stop it by the act of writing, though the reader may interpret it any number of ways--as you yourself have done. Thanks for responding so searchingly.
Lovely, Vassilis! Being in time means being implicated in the doings of one's times. And our times are bloody indeed....
Well said, Joe and unfortunately true of our times, as you point out. Thanks for the response!