Born of a chance ,
occurence of a silent language
who contemplates me
as an abstract object
or some wild artifact...
I learned to read the message
from lips sealed by a shameful
appointment who did not plant
kisses on the toys...
My brave Teddy has gone
to the lie-after of a closet,
warmed by a disabled puppet ...
Surrounded by a few mechanical
bonsai trees with a well oiled-look
that popped out of Santa\'s hat,
thinking they were making me laugh
by dressing up as facetious psychiatrists...
Then I lost myself in fluffy nightmares
that smelled like a shroud
for still alive ederly ...
I was that child of savage rituals
in my sentinel island .
Reppeling all impudent conquerors !
Hero of a wordless story
where Ginger and Buster
hailed a cab under the rain ,
driven by a serial killer ...
Poor backpacker ,untrusting
his sorrow to the birds of boredom...
And life came along ,
laying a speckle of rust
on the demonetized demons.
Lucky hand at the poker table ...
Thanks a lot doc !
A smiling ghost invites me
to taste an elixir of immortality...
Here I am back home .