intonations of the bizarre

 

presence.

the cliff of a perfume
without warning
shattering my glass of mindlessness
awake at a bridge

caterpillar of eyes in a crowd
dragging the body of time to nowhere

the grass grows like punks from the cathedral

the tattoo was arrested
from the cadence of her breasts

the oblique sunlight was lighting up
his face like a field of camels
a wealth of lifelong wayfaring

the extinct tribes are hidden in Berlin
where a sprinkle of immesurabilitttty
is part of any local

perfume.

Lonely Fisherman

geometry of our world

Have you ever felt that things are not going right
traveling on a train, hours turning long and hollow
the geometry of our cities, bizarre and strange
grey clouds manifestations of our discomfort
  A world asphyxiated by man-made senselessness
 
From a lighthouse humankind is a lonely fisherman
pulling up his nets from the side of his boat
hopelessly unaware of the colossal orb and suns
encompassing his insect-like labors and concerns
  Our insignificance engulfed in an universe of mystery