the world has fallen on my fingers
imperial guillotine/a famous sculpturer
wraps up the mountains in plastic sheet
- adoringly numerical images -
morality struts nude on the beaches
of continents/meme la poesie
a quelque chose du dernier match
de cassius clay/the old man only bears
relief movies kinetic sculpture
and computer programmed tea/according
to the temperature of solitude
my country the core of a dream through which I fall
in an old manuscript
my heart is one beat ahead of life
politics is a dancer, faked banknotes her dress
the powers-to-be function to a T
"mon pays scalpe de sa jeunesse"
coal moon and grace/like
an old engraving on my lap a temporary
death/a high figure wind in an iron whisper
man-manuscript/machines have a sense of reality
death only knows me behind the visor of breath
child/a high figure wind leaves
in my eyes the music walls gold
speed performance and dynamism/the future
a word in which all the occurrences perished
the world has fallen on my fingers
in my heart joy
has the diaphanous murmur of death
I'm looking for a house that resembles mother's voice
often have I heard
my own flesh surrounding
a red stain
my own flesh white word
of stratified masks
above the word the future
eroded in atavic
images
river of limpid masks
rotting away on walls
like the discarded skin of angels
and you're singing
late/infinity
clashes with naked soul/sea star
bird clashes with eye/dreamers
bells tolling for my was
day dries out/colours cub
all around/this myself so wasted
late infinity
sea star/clashes with naked soul
you're singing/streetcars their iron
welded to your anxiety
quo vadis