Literally: unwrite, scrub out what
Is written. What has been written
Can never be unwritten – a fallacy.
Everything can be destroyed except
Matter. I don’t think my words will
Reconstitute themselves when they’ve
Been burned or have mouldered away,
And even if it isn’t until the sun
Consumes the Earth at the end of time.
There may be souls who wander the
Voids of the dead universe who
Will recite what we have scribed.
R 22/01/2023 16:40
Today’s #MastoPrompt was #obliterate. I have written two other poems to it, but one of them is so good I want to keep it for better things (no disrespect, dear reader) and to file around its sharp edges, and the other one isn’t particularly good.
A fine walk to Norwich Lookout Point, in front of Norwich Prison, overlooking the city, with the cathedral, as always, the focal point. Interesting to see the holes in the city, probably ripped out of it in the 60s when history didn’t matter – car parks, wasteground, desolation. Sometimes it’s a good thing the eye can’t discern what’s in the infinite distance.