A Poem For New Year’s Eve


Here I sit

stuck between

two eternities,

history and

the history that will be.

A flake off someone’s life

that isn’t any more



to hit the ground

and fill it

beyond imagination

beyond horoscopes

beyond hunger

beyond new beginnings

beyond new years.


I put my hat on

and count, 10, 9, 8 ……..

I count the days until

I count no more.


Ah! But then there will be fireworks!

The end, an unending hangover.

The end, no new year.

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