I listen to this sleepy blues
of the last day of eternity .
Rain leaves a scent of rust on life.
I seek harmony in the sublime
indifference and nobility
of disenchantment ...
Porgy and Bess are back
in bounty hunter paradise..
My thoughts drifting in the dark
ocean of tired inspiration ...
Frozen landscape of a Flemish primitive
populated by livings reincarnated
as thinking street furniture ...
Futile carnival in the gutter .
I can only find writing
orphaned of words ,
pathetic lunar node ...
Love offering me bitter parody,
losing lottery and mockery
thrown onto a virgin page
void of any mystery .
But it remains like an enigma ,
a dissociated voice ,
searching for the path
in a maze leading somewhere
beyond the last day of eternity.
Damned poetic alchemy ...
Who keeps lying to me .