The Shall and the Should of Death
This way, then, you retained many insignificant images
in your eyes.
Who will have time to get baptized in the Lake of
memory?
Eternity lasts so little
yet, it’s possible that certain justice must exist somewhere
that explains
under which pretensions a man dies
with so many shall and should which death whispers
his whole life vanishes
since, you know, only one second is enough
for the change of course his wings can take
and don’t listen to them, seconds are precious
since the man who dies is penniless
with the choked death rattle of a haunted man
he needed minutes, thousands of seconds
to buy what? Insignificant images, yet, how
can he repay? What can he borrow now?
How many images of his memory can he sell?
Minutes give birth to a dynasty of aged images
and the interest seems to be unbearable.
Is there anyone, then, who can pay for it?
Manolis Aligizakis 