Tangled mind

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 ...