1. … from now on, a reshuffling of diction, word-acrobatics, perspectives gleaming with thought: somebody built an orange tree against the other things around it, to devour boiled eggs in the porcelain hand of a plate, the convulsions of the world can only go a short length, it’s a matter of …
… regression, like tumbling downstream over the backs of boulders …
2. … near the end of his journey the man’s voice, as dull as ashes, a cracked seed ready to burst, declining through the dark, a short distance to a wintry end: traveling alone to the bottom, sound of his dusty age drawing in the earth lying at the edge of bones: today, the light, tomorrow the ledge: think lightning fast …
… his affliction is not pain but death: cold at his feet, like frail children ...
3. … even in the icy spring of March, your eyes were the stars melting lingering snow: we lay buried in the warm blood of naked bodies, like refugees in a new land, and the wind that did not reach us, and the ice that could not find us: outside, the silent streets could hear thunder beneath our blanket …
… ask me where she is, the one who ignored my heart, who was gone by summer ...