Works of RK

I don’t want to be here anymore The ageing paint and the dripping taps The fading chairs and the dirty Oven That now no one cares for Reminds me of you Their hellos, their smiles, And the way they look at me as I walk in And walk out Alone Burdens my soul… I don’t want to be here anymore And I don’t want to be there Where the table you sat on is And the plate I served you in Is Where an old safety pin Sits next to a lock of your hair And a book of mine From a time I do not now Remember I don’t want to be there anymore Not here Not there.

Hold on to the lean fingers Of your old young mother's hand And stop trying to make sense Of the justice in this all When the school bells ring Find a little pebble to break Go help your father Climb a hundred stairs Look down the cavity in the walls But don't fall, don't fall May your never experience hunger Let there be junk from the day before Served with the kindness Of strangers who offer The big lord, gold Cry little child cry Let the concrete in the Sethu ' s* site Never run dry. You cry. You cry. * A rich man.

I read that there was a fire in Andover, near Boston. I pinged her and saw the double tick An hour later, a message, I am safe, don't worry. The heart beats in such distant places. People die long before they are dead.

Can I borrow you From a Feynman’s Future And hide you in my memory corridors Forever locked In blocks of eternal presentness? Can I be with you Without actually having to be For that would require of me To consume time Grow old and die I don’t want to fight Entropy I just want to be In space outside of time Just you and me