the monsters have reached my garden
monsters of lips of artificial breasts
monsters full my garden
I ran through the vermilion city
vermeils rhododendrons
lovineless rises
rises to the vermilion panache
nights of calcined moons
nights of pale childbirth
nights horizons understandings
nights of thirsty moons
monsters have reached my garden
monsters of beauties of artificial women
monsters full my garden
ants make love in my heart
it is the end of the world
and my hairs are filled with my moths
they go around the world
the rats lies in the shadow of my navel
the night draws aside my eyes
under the wing of the bats of images
dogs and rats devour my heart
one plays Rugby with my skull
and the world goes around my skull
my nails tears the buttocks which I carry
and my lips join their bloodied wounds
and I lie there close the prostituted dreams
in this terrestrial jungle
and the lion howls to my name
the chimpanzees make a stumbler of my prick
but it is the end of the world..
I cross over again the bridgeof mirages of attracting waters
I catch up with the parapet of the "let-fall-straight-down"
tastes to the moon of the solitary drownings of ages
the disease of caresses of the sinking images.
I trespass the postof the lanterns gallows
I spin the string of files of emancipaded young girls
the masquerade of my mask to the reflections of ices
my body over the hand of an abyss which it leaves in suspension.
One throws the stoneof my heart to the scrap
I collect my stone in the carrions humanities
one made a crippled puppet of myself
I ressuscite from my flesh the prohibited indecencies.
I kissed a lipwhich have given me bad
the lip one waits too long a time for nothing
I profane this life of lips for a little bit of shadows
the black lake which closes itself over an evil.
Good-bye, gods and goddesses, negresses
sadness, goodday, with both of us we are alone
night, come back with your bridges which cracks
your water which closes over the full stop.
I do believe in nothing in you, in her, nothing
we would have trespass the road without seing each other
walls separating our caricatures
and I would be a soulless lifeless without images
The disfigured masks
over the faces
signed to the destinies
The faces losts
in the mornings
like sated pasts
the passionate waltz
in parades of seasons
and infernal distorsions
Landscapes to the colics
lamentables and tragics
in the heavy twilight
of evenings
without ends
And
the nights of eternities
the eternal damnations
the retreat of masquerades
towards the necropoles of yesterdays
In procession of shadows
over the mask of fog
Oh,
the sadness of winds
of these timid breaths
towards the wandering couches
It tells me to be sad
This sleep over the face
contracted by time
the influence of remorse
It is a mask without life.
The walls, the walls
the walls on your insuperable faces
walls of steel, walls of lead
after you, there is no more smiles
after you, I do not see anything
these dark walls!
call the walls, the days of walls
the walls of days in your faces
call the smiles
the smiles absent to the walls of faces,
the walls, the walls
the walls of transferred fingers
the walls of shadows, the walls of breathw,
after you, there is no more whisperings,
after you, I do not feel anything
these walls of shadows!
call the walls, the nights funerals
the funeral of nights on your fingers
call the whisperings
the whisperings absent to the walls of fingers
the walls, the walls
the walls of dull faces
the walls extinguished, the livid walls
after you, there is no more lights
after you, I do not distinguish anything
these faded walls!
call the walls, the eternity corpses
the corpses of eternities on your faces
call the lights
the lights absent to the walls of faces
...........
I am in your wounds
leaving from your wounds in tired pig
I feel the old age of the carrions
my carrions days to the dribbles of time
I am still in your wounds
a whole world of hanging leprosies
your eyes of busted tits
to the tears of sadnesses
your eyes of apogees cancers
to the dead animal body of my dreams
your eyes of carnages dungeons
I feel the muds departures
to the diagonals bloods of the deserts
I hear the short-sighted musics
to the decapitated frights of the orchestras
the diseases of cemeteries horizons
the diseases of incarnated rendez-vous
the diseases of incantationed existencies
the diseases of coack-roached worlds
a corpse of world to the blooded fingers
I enter while crawling my miseries arrows
a smile of dog palm to the diantre
I move the animal by cheerfulness puff out
I puff out my cores of entrails
to the disastrous rates of my jitters
I tell good-bye to the dayly invasions
the Jesus anathemas of my crucifixions
the Jesus crucified of my fingers of toes
the Jesuits crucifixions of my pumps
I have the idiotic genuflexion of the ponces
the anarchy monster of the beasts
I have the nausea defector of the revolted
I have the cursed head of the calamities
I have the plague at the end of my reflexions
a return basin in the viscous mornings
open your doors of hells
to the arrivals of broken soldiers
the mothers decapitated to the doors
the children with torn off skulls of the cradles
it is the revolt of the kings nuts
suns fixed to the fingers
the fingers of palm to the rifle
suns torn off from the eyes
the eyes suspended to the corpses
it is the open mouth of the battle fields
blood, blood, blood,
corpses of blood
blood of corpses
open your veins
hells
open your skulls
witnesses gods
how small they are the human ones
and thirsty
and miserable
rifles thirsty of human
the human thirsty of rifles
blood, blood, blood,
harvests of coarpses
clouds of shells
walls of flesh
atrocious flesh
atrocious feasts of calamities.
blood
iron
fire
steel
blood
blood of iron
of steel
of fire
of blood
clouds of iron
of steel
of fire
of blood.
monsters of lips of artificial breasts monsters full my garden
I ran through the vermilion city vermeils rhododendrons lovineless rises rises to the vermilion panache
nights of calcined moons nights of pale childbirth nights horizons understandings nights of thirsty moons
monsters have reached my garden monsters of beauties of artificial women
monsters full my garden
under the wing of the bats of images dogs and rats devour my heart one plays Rugby with my skull
and the world goes around my skull my nails tears the buttocks which I carry and my lips join their bloodied wounds and I lie there close the prostituted dreams in this terrestrial jungle and the lion howls to my name the chimpanzees make a stumbler of my prick
but it is the end of the world..
of mirages of attracting waters I catch up with the parapet of the "let-fall-straight-down" tastes to the moon of the solitary drownings of ages the disease of caresses of the sinking images. I trespass the post
of the lanterns gallows I spin the string of files of emancipaded young girls the masquerade of my mask to the reflections of ices my body over the hand of an abyss which it leaves in suspension. One throws the stone
of my heart to the scrap I collect my stone in the carrions humanities one made a crippled puppet of myself I ressuscite from my flesh the prohibited indecencies. I kissed a lip
which have given me bad the lip one waits too long a time for nothing I profane this life of lips for a little bit of shadows the black lake which closes itself over an evil. Good-bye, gods and goddesses, negresses sadness, goodday, with both of us we are alone night, come back with your bridges which cracks your water which closes
over the full stop. I do believe in nothing
in you, in her, nothing we would have trespass the road without seing each other walls separating our caricatures and I would be a soulless
lifeless without images
The disfigured masks over the faces signed to the destinies
The faces losts in the mornings like sated pasts
the passionate waltz in parades of seasons and infernal distorsions
Landscapes to the colics lamentables and tragics in the heavy twilight of evenings without ends
And the nights of eternities the eternal damnations the retreat of masquerades towards the necropoles of yesterdays In procession of shadows over the mask of fog
Oh, the sadness of winds of these timid breaths towards the wandering couches
It tells me to be sad This sleep over the face contracted by time the influence of remorse
It is a mask without life.
the walls, the walls the walls of transferred fingers the walls of shadows, the walls of breathw, after you, there is no more whisperings, after you, I do not feel anything these walls of shadows! call the walls, the nights funerals the funeral of nights on your fingers call the whisperings the whisperings absent to the walls of fingers
the walls, the walls the walls of dull faces the walls extinguished, the livid walls after you, there is no more lights after you, I do not distinguish anything these faded walls! call the walls, the eternity corpses the corpses of eternities on your faces call the lights
the lights absent to the walls of faces
...........
to the diagonals bloods of the deserts I hear the short-sighted musics to the decapitated frights of the orchestras the diseases of cemeteries horizons the diseases of incarnated rendez-vous the diseases of incantationed existencies the diseases of coack-roached worlds a corpse of world to the blooded fingers
I enter while crawling my miseries arrows a smile of dog palm to the diantre I move the animal by cheerfulness puff out I puff out my cores of entrails to the disastrous rates of my jitters I tell good-bye to the dayly invasions the Jesus anathemas of my crucifixions
the Jesus crucified of my fingers of toes the Jesuits crucifixions of my pumps I have the idiotic genuflexion of the ponces the anarchy monster of the beasts I have the nausea defector of the revolted I have the cursed head of the calamities I have the plague at the end of my reflexions a return basin in the viscous mornings
open your skulls witnesses gods how small they are the human ones and thirsty and miserable rifles thirsty of human the human thirsty of rifles
blood, blood, blood, harvests of coarpses clouds of shells walls of flesh atrocious flesh atrocious feasts of calamities.
blood iron fire steel blood blood of iron of steel of fire of blood clouds of iron of steel of fire of blood.
Carte Postale