Friday, August 30, 2013

L’HOMME EN DENTELLE


dans les veines du pied,
le calcaire, l’eau
accumulés par
son parfum.
Inaccessible, elle attend lui
et son visage,
ce drap blanc seché par le vent hivernal, sous le soleil nordique
et elle
au point de
se déboutonner
au plus profond du noir de cette chambre
à bord de ce navire, cette cabine où
  le hublot s’est étoilé. 

Friday, August 23, 2013

CYCLE OF THINGS




around this rectangular bird
pecking the land
devoid of wings.
erupting
calcification
fish
right into the sky.
Abundance!
around clouds, stars
are dropping over the wings of
the rectangular bird, which is
grumbling to itself: “Where
is the red one,
the red bleeding one,
the red fish, bleeding,
in which I am told to discover
the perfect, impeccable
worm, fattening?”
Being unable to wait until morning,
stars choose to be always invisible and
falling into the non-existence,
“whereas fish eyes meet the cycle”.