I’m finished with politics and politics is finished.
The filthy rainwashed streets stink with exhaustion.
Merrily the crowds will graze their way.
We’ve arrived at something like the end of a principle.
Subway rats have begun to speciate.
The paintings rise in value in their warehouses.
Wind has worn the statues to abstraction.
Beautiful bodies stretch in expensive parks.
What’s aesthetic is ethical, what’s ethical is aesthetic.
The situation demands attention and observation.
They say the fumes of vehicles have become efficient.
No one knows anymore what language to speak.
Various metrics soar to icarian heights.
We’ve fit the information to the model.
Never has anyone lived in such a time.
What will remain of us is what survives.
I don’t know why I do the things I do.
Certainty would bring no absolution.
Only music is the spark of joy.
Human touch redeems what it does not destroy.
Our faith must reside in what has no resolution.
All there are is people, who are what they are.
Politics is finished and I am finished with politics.