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    For Yaedi David Ignatow

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    Aaron Newton
    For Yaedi Looking out the window at the trees and counting the leaves, listening to a voice within that tells me nothing is perfect so why bother to try, I am thief of my own time. When I die I want it to be said that I wasted hours in feeling absolutely useless and enjoyed it, sensing my life more strongly than When I worked it.

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    For Yaedi David Ignatow

    Uploaded by

    Aaron Newton
    8 views1 page
    For Yaedi Looking out the window at the trees and counting the leaves, listening to a voice within that tells me nothing is perfect so why bother to try, I am thief of my own time. When I die I want it to be said that I wasted hours in feeling absolutely useless and enjoyed it, sensing my life more strongly than When I worked it.

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     For Yaedi David Ignatow

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    For Yaedi Looking out the window at the trees and counting the leaves, listening to a voice within that tells me nothing is perfect so why bother to try, I am thief of my own time. When I die I want it to be said that I wasted hours in feeling absolutely useless and enjoyed it, sensing my life more strongly than When I worked it.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    8 views1 page

    For Yaedi David Ignatow

    Uploaded by

    Aaron Newton
    For Yaedi Looking out the window at the trees and counting the leaves, listening to a voice within that tells me nothing is perfect so why bother to try, I am thief of my own time. When I die I want it to be said that I wasted hours in feeling absolutely useless and enjoyed it, sensing my life more strongly than When I worked it.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
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    For Yaedi Looking out the window at the trees and counting the leaves, listening to a voice within

    that tells me nothing is perfect so why bother to try, I am thief of my own time. When I die I want it to be said that I wasted hours in feeling absolutely useless and enjoyed it, sensing my life more strongly than when I worked at it. Now I know myself from a stone or a sledgehammer. ~ David Ignatow ~
    (New and Collected Poems, 1970-1985)

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