Black air
In the distance, dusk cuts the tongue of the sun.
Underwater, town after town in the sky stops laughing.
All shadows drop from the trees and gang up on me. Forests and windowpanes go
pale, like women. Night has spread completely. The carpool takes a flame aboard
and crosses the park.
At that point my emotions dance about the city
Until they have driven out the grief.
To the vast blooming sky
They are the eyes of all people.
Don’t these words resonate in white.
I’ll take off my hat and throw it all in.
As the sky and oceans hide countless flower petals.
One of these days, blue fish and rose-colored birds will burst through my head.
The things I’ve lost are never to return.
Flower
Dreams are severed fruit
Auburn pears have fallen in the field
Parsley blooms on the plate
The leghorn at times seems to have six fingers
I crack the egg and the moon comes out
Green flame
I first see men loudly approaching down numerous green stairs pass by look
away cram into a small space while gradually hardening into a mound their movement
makes waves of light furrow through the wheat field a thick overflowing fluid
makes it impossible to stir the woodlands larch with short hair snail painting
carefully spider walking its line like fog everything rotates from green to
deeper green the men are inside the milk bottle on the kitchen table are reflected
crouching with their flattened faces slide around an apple they seem to crumble
as they block off a shaft of light in the street a blind girl plays by ducking
under the shadows of the sun’s rings.
I hurry to shut the window danger has reached me a fire blazes outside the
beautiful green flames spread high, circling the outskirts of the earth and
in the end dwindle, disappear as a single thin line of the horizon
My weight leaves me takes me back to the depths of oblivion people are crazy
here no point in sorrow nor in speaking their eyes dyed green believing is uncertain
and looking makes me rage
Who blindfolds me from behind? Shove me into sleep.