Member Poem

i won’t stay with the men
who are waiting but what for
and are hearing the thunder ringing 
of their hollow bones 
and with the women i won’t be
the woman are always somewhere out
and searching searching but what for
the nude to find 
the land here is low 
dusty
stony
land almost of nails
and of sermons
what kind of love is this one 
that should be touched
(male, female)
be broken to pieces 
be seen
the end

i won’t stay with the men
and women for knowing
when
“And the fire and the rose are one “*

T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding 
(No. 4 of 'Four Quartets’