love is brutal with us
these days
and you know
when you feel my thoughts
hunting yours
in the blue white of the morning
you’re right
we are not
what we fear the most
not even those unhappy dolls
of the 21st century
running in meaningless circles
but rather what we miss
when we use reasonable absurdities
to justify and apease
the horrific need
for each other
when you feel my thoughts
hurting yours
in the red dark of the dusk
and you glow in
those nights
when you do what you do
inside you it’s a who
reaching out black tree branches
thru your lungs and your eyes
in a white sterling darkness
neither dead nor alive
twisting morrow and bone
like a screw
when you do what you do
on her back spreading legs
raping death stilling breath
you become almost true
to the old silent ghost
open wings without feathers
nightingale in a worm
for better for worse
the club of Christian happiness is now open
patients are granted a place in heaven
dead or alive
the pharmacies are closed
doctors grope their nurses in utility rooms
and paramedics race each other on the motorways
no tires spared
no lives to spare
the morphine of happilyeverafter has cured
all dead men walking
"Oublier en avant" - Ed Jacques Bremond, France, 2002
les mythes
commes les pierres
quelques lettres non déchiffrées
sèchant au soleil
je tourne la tête
ce mot
- disparu
au coeur de la pierre
la plus dense obscurité
le pouls des pierres
l'instant qui rend
insupportable la cohésion
de la matière:
les grains de sable sont nés
ayant oublié l'unité de la pierre
passe
le spasme de la pierre
passe
l'onde
indolente
de l'heure
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