The time before a rendez-vous with my bed
In an absent manner i remember things.
My chair is barking beneath me
A shoal of fun minds my wrist
And the high level hailstorm headlines my nobody.
I am a tiger of languages
Contemplating in a jungle of dictionaries.
Wandering in despair
I saw the blond girl whose nightie made of insomnia
Infringing the caper of the laughter
I can get nothing out of her gingerbread
Which is melted like a cirrus
In the nomad’s mouth where i generated
The experience of last night.
I was anguished
I moved to the abyss of thing
Hoping to knock the nation over.
I rushed into the street
And it was dark like a piece of ice.
I didn’t have a knife
But before you could say knife
I skinned time
Taking its flesh and bones
Making of them
A barbarian full of ardent shrieks
Having no equal in snaring a look
Nor in denting a passing smile.
I released him hovering on the mountains
Where dreams lurked everywhere
Ramifying the rampage of the i.
And then on returning
He could not find the way
And fell into deep discouragement
Smoking his last bun of nexus.
I retraced my steps
Went up many times
And not seeing how to get out
Ifell asleep
Instantly waking to him
Vomiting his own flesh
In the vessel of darkness
And he told me
” you will find here what you seek”
SULΦUR 