Loosen your grip and relax,
Life's too short for the way you sing,
Crying with the notes of an alto sax,
Casting gloom over everything...
Just because you can't pass on your genes
To co-mingle with those of another,
Do you know what that really means?
You need to go talk to your mother.
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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