headline poetry

I am gone without a trace.
Except for some doppelgangers
which were liberated from me
years before my departure.

I am permanently taken
in the frame of my self
for the blame of my self
by the name of my self
with the game of myself.
I am permanently taken in
a world of echoes,
of self self echoes.

I am permanently taken.
Each man must
for himself
alone decide …
you can’t take it with you.
The paradox lives for
no one but my self.

I am gone without a trace.
After watching,
through some windows,
the smooth blur
of a river of soft colors and
hard things tear by,
for a pleasant while,
I felt a little rushed.
Wouldn’t you?