We were bards and had no memories. ...

We were bards and had no memories. each afternoon, perhaps from four o'clock we stood there in van of that bookstore and talked. We read verse and carried on discussions. It was like that everyday. Words were not real anymore. Just like a swarm of flies, they followed our trail and flew throughout our heads buzzing until we reached the bookstore, And then if we got tired, we would fare to the teahouse next door and drink one tea. The sound of flies buzzing would fill the teahouse until we could no longer induce our jaws. Then we would leave.

Opposite the bookstore, onward the other side of