there is less

to this new

what they

had in mind

when books

burned

see who’s

scared

to go to bed

before

they’re

tired

 

love

lubEre

libEre

to please

 

la[ng]-

gwij,

-wij

 

hate

kEdos

care

fear

anger

injury

Falling Asleep

 

am I being patient

I dreamed

I couldn’t fly

children seem always about to cry

In Manarola

in that turquoise sea

I floated weightless

and forgot to breath

now I can see more

than what's there

I’m comfortable nowhere

not even asleep

30/6/2005

 

All life is alive and here and continues sun

plucks fire from the deepest cold soul

sleepy with indecision everywhere is talk

in a tower of broken languages the

breeze and the seeds of every plant dying

to live there are only beginnings music

shifts the afternoon from the din of trams

and bicycle bells the peasant German

transparent English still conspires

conquest like a wounded admiral

anesthetized with a loyalty few could

feign anonymity plagues the ego as if

anything humans could create is important

leaves are born from branches shade is

shadows we’ve obstructed the light to

balance our potentials and failures so

easily embarrassed and given way to

police uniforms power confused by

morality’s detonation it’s better to sleep

than to wander for poetry drowned in

dreams there is only laughing and crying

true nature buried in the constant flux of

thought too near the surface of the skull it

escapes through the eyes and mouths of what

promise could perpetuate this species

which for the first time discovers the

ignorance it lives children who frighten

their parents into guilt of them being born