I become a tightrope walker, the masked Solomon
I use the need, I have the belly for silences
I want the DIY chrome pension,
in bed the carcass of a plundered man.
Of idiocies , there's a war outside
for a place in the intellectual market
to hide the inept who festers
outside there's a settled war.
The slap he gives the wave at the shoreline
breaks the frame of dense walks
seduces, annihilates, sublimates
the unpopular choice
but I don't pay attention to it because the people omit themselves.< br/>While I heat up vegetable broth
I swallow the scents of the rainy air
I take on courage, I proudly equip myself
nettle between the thighs of armored scullions:
I am the only one among many if I am isolated from what I am.
Inside there is a war on that war
peace on the alert...
At the ford of loving alternating currents
hatred the pension and that fucking DIY.

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