Nov 3, 2014

Acrobatic delirium






5 crematoriums of  soul
day is a box in which I am placed               ( Angels have left me long ago )

grubby city crushes on the thershold
 thirsty and tired  city                                (And I'm in the pockets of dead fish )
                                                                                        ( I stink of tar and dust )
I’m in this .                                    (walls of my room die)
Awakening ,that is when
With a block of granite you sink into the water,
a day is when you are slaughtered-
and released to die in a groan

For days I do not hear anything  except locomotives
below the ears I carry walls
-sluggish as clogged chimney .
And boring dogs
Roam without approaching me            ( Awakening that is when )
                                                                                        (  Without a crumb of strength you stand in the dark,)
                                                                                          ( and day is when silver nails )
                                                                                         ( crowdedly rush towards your throat. )
This is us
three fingers of cotton in the universal filth
The rain turns into snowflakes
And, like before
We slush through the same rails
undetained .
That’s how end comes
-persistently we sink in the mud
Because the mud is all that binds us +





November 1997

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