Shelter

I do not like you...
I thought I should inform
before the storm!

Solidity does not last
and the nastiness is pure
illusion of matter.

Still lifes
and landscapes and portraits
running down the walls
soaking the baseboards
covering film
for the meat on the ground.

A scream stopped in the air
castanets atabaques xylophones
thousands of naked women
floating above our heads
raining down on us
weeping clouds
tropical storms
the trumpets of the military band.

Men spin
on its axes
and do pirouettes
and move the air...

(With tulle petticoats and
crimson silk stockings.)

The girls pile up
the dolls' heads
and sit on the edge of the sidewalks
waiting for the next bus.

The escape eternalizes the abandonment
takes with it the existence
the escape leaves - the chest - empty
it hurts the legs, the arms
makes the throat dry...

Running is not the answer
and the answer does not justify
the escape, the answers are
all deep in the dark
drowned - fleeing - starving...

Blazing lies falling
from heaven like fried eggs.


PAR