there was a time you didn’t exist
a time even the thought of your existence wasn’t there
there was a time your parents didn’t exist
your grandparents and your great-grandparents were not born
there was a time your ancestors didn’t exist
not even the tribes you’re coming from
there was a time your nation history didn’t exist
I still wear the clothing from another life
used, full of stars
tips of light grow in pockets
the way you know me
lost in old bookstores
breathing in catalogs, sketches, engravings
with scattered memories
counting the bridges across Seine
transient boats
the clouds lay in bema
starved
they devour me
on this ineffable highway
in me
incendiary I wander
A fost odată un cățel
A fost odată un cățel pe care îl chema Bu bu bu.
Strigi “Bu bu bu!” și cățelul iese fuguța de sub pat ori sare de pe masă ori iese târâș de sub divan.
the neon light twinkling on the hallway
like a motion detection sensor
especially mounted to catch
your heartbeats in the way
downstairs to the copier
and the fear, the intense fright
that the perfume which perpetrates
the office under the door is not yours
annihilating my will and nazal fosses
just like the e-mail unexpectedly arrived does: please, print the document
Non chiedermi parole oggi non bastano.
Stanno nei dizionari: sia pure imprevedibili
nei loro incastri, sono consunte voci.
È sempre un prevedibile dejà vu.
Vorrei parlare con te - è lo stesso con Dio -
tramite segni umbratili di nervi,
elettrici messaggi che la psiche
trae dal cuore dell'universo.
Un fremere d'antenne, un disegno di danza,
un infinitesimo battere di ciglia,
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