I open my window on the world\'s last tomorrow .
I \'d like a faraway island to forget swarming and warming,
but walking on the ocean of my thoughts ,I will be submerged
by the visionary abyss of my madness ...
I\'d like to be inspired by the scent of wild erotic flowers
and turn them into a divine nectar ,but they would be
pixellated by loathsome flies ...
I\'ll lie down on the lie of a beach of volcanic ash
bathed in toxic deposits and hydrocarbon tides ...
If I could be exfiltrated in a past perfect sens ,
populated by benevolent and indifferent species,
or on some planets beyond all incoherent space-time
But here too the system will dissiminate my dissociation ...
I dream to be lost in a universe of robots ,
working in a brain factory ...
I am afraid they\'ll crack the enigma of the psychotic machine,
and make themselves master of my lunacy !
I enjoy a last Martini on the clock ...