Once

thou walk rayless among lonely stars,

ye looks through winter cedars by the side,

i've never seen crickets shining,

nor moon so big and sad.

All the blue things

   This year the moss has grown again, between the tiles. The tiles have been covered with a black green. Mom asks me for the sunday's newspaper. I leave it on the couch and look out the window. Then I think about Daniel with strenght. There's a movement in the trees, in the street. The trees are cut behind the blue sky.
  There's a beetle with a red head walking down the moss, making a strange balance with its body. Suddenly it stops, its small shadow gets black, reflected on the dark blue moss. The beetle is aware of Daniel's presence. It stands quietly next to him, hidden in the blue-green blanket. The beetle doesn't move, it's a little black statue, a little and strange creation of nature.
   Daniel sees me through the window's glass. I feel chills, , it's great, and I heat up my hands by friction. I'm stiff, my hands resting on the sink. My sight, right now, is almost lost.
   I go out to hold him, and mom makes a noise when she turnes the newspaper's pages. The door produces a dry and metallic noise when it closes behind me.
   Daniel says, "I saw you there, behind the window". I laugh and feel a cool breeze. I bend down and practice a hole in the ground and sink some flower seeds deep down. Then I cover the little hole. The trees are still moving, the sky stands blue. Daniel looks at me, without saying anything. Then he bends and kisses me. I get up holding on to Daniel. And the sky is still there, behind the green and silky cedars.
   It's going to grow a tulip, a pink tulip. The beetle moves again, in silence.
   There will be a full garden in spring.
   And Daniel says nothing.
   Mom is watching us through the window.
   And I feel nothing.

People

The rich are sick and mad,
the poor are sick and mad,
the ones from the middle are sick and mad,
the ones from the frontier are dead and rotted,
the rest doesn't exist.

Good morning

All the books are on the sofa,
Without anybody reading them,

The television is off and senseless,
A turn in the clock,

Already another day has ended,
and it was a lot like yesterday.

I thought that it was a feeling, but it ended up being a bug

Somewhere she hides what she wants.

Somewhere by her tight body.

She knows where, she just don't say it.

Inside her, fighting (it could be).

In any street, floating (and now I should look up).

Behind the hair, or between it.

Like a disturbing bug,

dancing,

screaming.

Useless walking

I went out to walk along the route,

The lanterns and the lights around,

A car every three minutes,

And then I saw someone similar to someone,

Of the past,

Of the high school epoch,

And when we cross we did not recognize ourselves,

Several cars happened,

And several months,

And then I remembered that I did not like him,

That I hated him,

And that it wasn't good to see him again.

Deadly night

During one night with smell of flowers in the air,
 In the rucksack I carry an equipment to kill,
 Rope, knife, gun,
 During one night with smell of flowers in the air.
In my mind I carry all the things of the childhood, and the idiocy, and the oblivion also.
 In the house my family is having dinner, or looking at the television, and the children already should be sleeping.
 During one night with smell of flowers in the air,
 In a street that catched my attention a few weeks ago, where she lives.
 The same thing might be one evening, but the night was made to kill, and the smell of flowers is nice.

Almost worried

The room in a heartbreaking darkness. There's a movement over the sheets, something that comes or goes, and I don't wanna know it. It's happening so far away from me, almost to my feet. And suddenly I feel that I should be worried about the issue.

Modern gestures

She continues looking at the picture for a while that I consider to be too much and then she looks at me lazily, without expression, as if it was the millionth time that someone recommend the nicotine patches to her.

Talking over my head

At this moment I am speaking about someone (I don't remember whom)

...He has been a great one … well … a great artist …, is one of my, how should I say it … - I clear my throat and look at the floor fixedly, a few drawings done by children, I guess, and try to remember something, then I  look towards ahead and pass a hand through my hair and feel it softly and docile - I would like a bloody mary, I'm thinking -, and then, going to the journalist, who looks at at me trying to smile (and because of that I could not avoid notice her perfectly straight and white teeth) - do you know Sol LeWitt?, he has experienced very interesting things, I believe that it is original enough, he has a very concrete and clean style, as an architect, and, well, you know, he's a phenomenal guy...

City comment

Like for any street (an avenue, a dirt track, a boulevard), I stop in a semaphore, the cars passes, there is someone who crosses in another corner, I'm looking at the shop windows, the showcases, there are so many things that could be bought. In fact, I believe that I have lost the notion of time. And probably someone wins with it, with this my non-time here and now (and this is something typically "civil"). Even, also, I might be walking along any city, the cartels arrange in several languages; this one is a cosmopolitan and enormous city. And there are propagandas and business and digital clocks hanging of the buildings. Later I get lost between a foreign crowd.

Probable

... Or probably the body is the redoubt of the philosophy, probably everything diminishes to an immeasurable and ugly mask that laughs at a hypothesis with Men's body...

Faceless body

It was a freezing night when I first saw a faceless body (a girl, a woman, something like a human)
quiet, bored, depressed (scary, unmentionable, unforgettable)
searching in the sky nothing to find (black infinity)
and an interstitial sound opened it and from that all the tears came.

Money for a pain

I get on my Christian Lacroix’s underwear and my Calvin Klein’s jeans and fit my Hugo Boss’s sunglasses and go away from Madelaine’s place with a fucking headache. I keep driving around for a while ‘till I find L’Occitante and decide to spend some money on anything. I buy all kind of stuffs and pay with my father’s Master Card and when I see his name followed by a bunch of green numbers in the computer’s screen I look away. It just revolves my stomach.

Images from T.V.

I grab the remote control and change channels randomly and don't even look what programs are. There are no answers in television. Images, images. "Damned bastard", she skips channels, smiles without wanting it. There are no answers in television. Agnes changes channels frantically during ten minutes until she gets tired and leaves the remote control on the table beside. I remain a few seconds admiring her sweet  profile, her straight and small nose, the beefy lips and the closed eyes with the long curved eyelashes. Images, images. She looks at me, smiles me, and her look seems like a high class's heavy baggage.

Modern gesture

Actually it's been quite a long time since we're sitting here and I begin to feel that those red lips ain't gonna say anything about nothing...

Little poem

The breathing way very below our eyes,
walking through the autumnal leafs of Milwaukee,
jumping while singing my fancy love song...

Pacified animal

Daniel says … nothing. He doesn't say anything. He shrinks of shoulders, changes position, looks without seeing. The smoke of the cigar rises up to wrapping his head. I thought that he was going to say something. He was about to. I stop, turn around myself, look out the window, breath heavily. I rest at the edge of the bathroom's door. I light a cigar too, I'm in my underwear. I support my back to the door, break my knees, we look each other.
I see a pacified animal, a blue sight.

Broken words

It is written in the door, in the bath, with a red scoreboard.
The letters leak up to the floor, it is like a greasy and disgusting river.
They spread down the tiles.
In the floor they're no words anymore.

Dew beneath my feet

I look up, and I feel one of those clots. I stagger. There is a brilliant light in the distance, to more than one kilometer from where I am; in the city, far away. The light bewilders an instant, until I look away from it. My eyes burn. I feel how the blood turns back to my head. It's refreshing.
I continue looking at the land, the black and humid lumps.
Until now I hadn't noticed the presence of the dew.

Lightning in ShantyTown

Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders, Baby shrinks of shoulders and sighs. She passes me the cigarette and I shrink of shoulders.
And she’s on the bed now, thinking about nothing.
We hear some gunshots from outside and look each other and no one says anything.
Baby shrinks of shoulders again and I’m lost in my personal wilderness.
She turns out the lights and I know it’s because she’s afraid of something.
I turn around and, even with the lights out, I can see her glaring blue eyes, shining in their own language.
Right now she’s seated on the plastic red chair reading the last Vogue magazine.
But with her legs crossed, lifting and dropping her right foot, she excites me, then she looks at me, from the corner of her eyes, smiling scarcely, like a model, she turns a page and she hopes I say something, she doesn’t move, she remains seated, lifting and dropping her foot, she squeezes her lips, makes them play, she looks at me from the corner of her eyes, smiles, shows her teeth, excites me, I approach, she laughs, turns a page.
Baby shrinks of shoulders, and we see a lightning from outside.
She wakes up from her dream, naked and sleepy, and goes to the bathroom. I know she’s smoking in there.
When she comes back from the bathroom, she asks me not to talk to her; not a single word.
I get up and walk around the room for a while, until she winks me an eye and that’s it.
I approach her and she passes a hand through my cold face.
Now: her eyes landing on me forever.
A minute passes, then another, then another one.
The unbreakable hours passes.
People talking and walking outside our window and we getting deeper and deeper inside our blankets.
Minutes later: baby shrinks of shoulders and starts crying for many reasons.
The lights are out, the door locked.
Another lightning, another thunderbolt, another gunshot come across.
Deeper and deeper in the blooded blanket…
I can almost hear her breathing, by my side, without hope or redemption.
It’s eerie, supernatural and amazing.
My face looking out the window, my mind erased.
I cross, rapidly, to the other room.

Cold evening's breeze

...cold evening's breeze torturing me to death,
leaving my bones cracked in the soil,
I can only hear the Devil's laugh...
for I'm now walking without region or path...

Something that passes

There is an oversensitive noise between the wheat, a few meters away, like a little animal smelling out something.
A shrew, a ferret, a rate, a night serpent entering my ears.
My shade sinks in the wheat, up to the land, spreads out between the erect stems of the white wheat.
Something that passes fluttering, making a slight movement in the inmovible air.
I look to the sky and see the old shining moon.

Quiet desperation

I light a cigarette and start smoking looking at the black disgusting crater. In the bottom I see some dead frogs and dry wood. I feel that anything that could happen won't matters to me at all. The evening's breeze makes the cigarette's smoke go away.

Tell me

What are you listening? I ask, whispering behind her. What are you listening? I ask again, slowly murmuring. What are you listening? Again. Agnes looks me really bushed and says nothing, just shrinks of shoulders and turns herself back. What are you listening? I get on top of her and touch her blond and long and soft n’ beautiful hair, and then I whisper: what are you thinking? BUT SHE SAYS NOTHING. What do you feel? I’m worried and I start playing with her hair. What do you want me to do? I mutter. What is going on in your mind? I feel an extreme anxiety. Are you feeling it too? She doesn’t responds. Are you gonna talk to me? What are you listening, babe? Do you want me to go? What are you thinking? Are you feeling lonely? Are you fucking kidding me? Are you listening to me?

Dizzy vision

The Men are walking, the Men are walking nearby...
The Men are talking, the Men are burying old memories in deep holes inside...
Oh my God, oh my God...
The Men are walking, the Men are turning the streets down...

Modern gesture

I drink the coffee very slowly, looking at the wall clock, with the plastic teaspoon.
The bubbles whirl in the cup's centre, lost in the foam.
My face is turning around there, deformed.
Scarcely you notice the sublte smile.

The billions sides of you

Indeed we have an insult in the broken mirror.
An obscenity hanging down there.
The whole place has come to pieces, to less than zero on the ground.
We have the broken reflect, the abnormal words, the shattered faces.
The billions sides of you.
There's thousands of trembling eyes, looking down.
There's so many of them, lost.

Moment

We’re seated on the empty street.
She’s smoking an Ashtray and I have a Sobranie in my hand.
A couple of young guys passes by talking dirty and laughing hard and we don’t look.
She’s probably pregnant but I feel that I still have to wait a few days to talk about the issue.
Of course she knows I’m concerned about it and tries not to even say the word child.

Falling drops

"In spring rain
a pretty girl
yawning"
Issa Kobayashi, IN SPRING RAIN.

Deep forest

...There is a herd of bleeding buffaloes,
With black teeth as torn chains,
A roar of loneliness and glooms,
A monstrous shouting from the bottom of the enchanted forest...

Modern gestures

Nigel doesn’t seems to be having too much of a trouble and he doesn’t even looks at Michelle when she kisses Juliet and then takes her upstairs and locks the door and turns out the lights...

Snow & I

Daniel is dragging his feet between the snow.
He takes off a little from his shoulders and falls to the soil.
I sweep the snow with a special broom made of wires.
I leave the whole area clean for the roses, the flowers.
A pink tulip is going to grow.
Daniel is looking at the way below, towards the beggining of the street.
I don't know what he's thinking right now.
The way below is covered with snow.
Then a snowflake falls in my palm, it melts, it trickles.
It's just water.
I look to the sky and my mind is just clean and white.

Endless innocence

Agnes is staring at me from the couch and she’s wearing a t-shirt by Alldressedup and an Eckored’s sweater and a Virgin’s jean and Ed Hardy’s shoes and a blue Garrick Anderson's necktie and she’s smoking and I know she’s upset with me ‘cause I’m dating Madelaine again and she’s not talking to me and I’m wondering what she’s thinking right now and I don’t ask her anything and I shrink of shoulders. The T.V. is on and Agnes starts to dance awkwardly singing Madonna’s song Who’s that girl? from the homonym 1987's album and then I light a Belomorkanal and Agnes is about to lose equilibrium and I get closer to her and after a few minutes we’re dancing together constrained by the rhythm and she’s sweating and I can tell she’s very horny and drunk and I know she knows I know and I feel good and then I begin to take her cloth off trying to be gentle all the way and she says nothing and she’s all floppy and wobbly and I can’t see her eyes because of the huge Bottega Veneta's sunglasses and a minute later she’s naked n' lying on the bed and I’m licking her tits and touching her pussy and then I penetrate her and I believe she’s about to fall sleep so I try to make her come as faster as I can and she scratches my back very hardly and I bite her lips and neck and then I come strongly whether she does or not and I don’t care. Now Agnes is about to cry for some reason and I ask her what is going on and she just shrinks of shoulders and sits on the couch and I can’t do anything else for her. The T.V. is on. I grab the cellular and take a photo of Agnes’s face for no reason whatsoever. I stand up and look outside the window and I see a blue Ferrari and a blond girl inside it with black glasses and a hat by Rock and Republic and maybe I know her but I don’t remember exactly. She looks just like Izabella Scorupco.

Inside darkness

An owl, an owl, a night owl.
The moon is full, it's innate to hope for the howling wolf,
the jump to the emptyness.
Mirko's arms and the wind's hiss in the night.
I stare his blinded shaking face from time to time.

Some other time

She’s laying on the floor and I’m looking at her.


Don’t you ever think about something else?, she asks.

Not really, I say.

She scratches her ass and I say I need a drink, just something with alcohol, something tough.

I feel like we’re losing the opportunity to do something meaningful and good, she says.

She’s drunk.

Like what?, I ask.

I don’t really know.

Playing along...

I’m proud of being born in La Chaux de Fonds, she says.

Sure, I say, you already told me that.


I light a Viceroy.

She laughs because I’m sleepy and not paying too much attention.

She kisses me anyway, looking at the T.V.

We need to rewrite the rules of attraction, she says.

An example of a game of mine

Now she’s reclined against the bathroom’s door, her favourite place, half naked and smoking.


It would be really hard to say what the fuck is she thinking right now.

She’s probably thinking about her sex life.

I don’t know.

Perhaps she believes her sex life is pretty much complete, but maybe not.

Probably her assessment varies a lot, like mine.

She’s probably fucking someone else.

I look her breasts, they’re big and hard.

I love her blue eyes in this afternoon light.

All her particular manners.

She says I’m neither her boyfriend nor her lover, we’re just hanging around.

She obviously wants to make that clear between us.

Ok, I say.

What else?

I’d like to be forty for an instant, she says.

I don’t know, I guess that would be funny.

I laugh.

Sure, I say.

She sits by my side with a fake motherly tone in her voice.

I feel you like far away, she says.