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I am salt in your vagina, island -- I am your gasworks, crawling with love...I have invented my own language, I have killed myself off... I am your hope ireland, I am several years ahead of you... There ought to be a law! Yeah, there ought to be a law ... against pickled tulips, & the radiator's padlock, against cloakrooms, against a man walking past with a dozen keys poking out of his eyes, against old-fashioned NEED, against golden ampitheaters, you ARE my grove!
Vomit sky! Lavender toes, on a quail...
But oh how our bodies were wings
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Flying in and out of each other
birds of a feather flock together,inside, below, inclement weather
...........................................................................................................................
There he goes, Johnny Appleseed
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He might pass by you, in your hour of need
Alone like Alice
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Inventing life
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Spying
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Eyes like cameras....,,,,lonnng fingers.
x
1 comment:
Je fais peut-être mon commentaire un peu en retard mais je tiens à dire que j'aime beaucoup toutes ces têtes qui sont l'oeuvre d'une imagination en éveil.
Alex Fatta
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