Flashes

 When I think of  the biography  of Franz Kafka  I only remember  How he rowed his boat  up the Vltava  Then put the oars up  Lay down on his back  At the bottom of the boat  And let the river take him  In his black suit  He looked like a  Dead man in his coffin  When his colleagues  on the bridge  Watched him float  Towards them  And past under them.

It has been 15 years since I posted these two entries here and I am surprised this account still exists. I was looking for a way to post impressions on books and this simple platform seems perfect for just words.