I've been pacing from room to room

Waiting for the world to stimulate

Something other than haunting gloom

Scroll unrolling a new series of emotions

Trends are mountaintops so better follow

The path is winding and this high peaked

Enjoy the view of this digital landscape

As the rest of the world crumbles at your

Feet

Until the Spring Ball

the farms in the bog form an --


archipelago.

Left and right, voters

all are unfortunately --


against welfare cuts.

The sound of Christian’s voice stirs me, awake
the vision of undulating ridges—verdant—
as my head falls, slowly, the window of the van
a glimpse of light through the rock on water
My coup de foudre. Southern France
with winding roads and biking hills
Take me to where the Ardèche flows.
Goodbye to the sweater shed from shoulder.
Lunch eaten fresh in October by the river.
Comté and baguette spread on our blanket.
We are off to Nîmes
Where butterflies are chased, beneath the bridge
the water rushes below me.
Delicate steps.

In Arles, the Rhône
where I can dream.
A quiet stream only for me
and those whose memory swims on
behind the easel—
natural and wild—so near—
masked by morning mist
that brushes, alters, clouds Vincent’s canvas
to a “foggy day over the Rhône,” we should say
and an old painting feels like home under
the stars. Am I free?
River scintillates in the dark of night
where I sit. The reflection is of me.

It's still early, no customers
nobody on the way to work
everything like yesterday
the fire hydrant always ready
and night rounds against theft

Here you do your shopping
here you go to the barber
here your friends live
this is your view, your street
your neighborhood, your home

where you can sleep quietly
without scary dreams
life is very good
in order here, with neighbours
who know you all

I would die here
or go crazy, unless
I was living with you -
nothing else to do
than being with you every night

The river is full, it is not dry
although it does not flow, it just boils
bubbling of all conceivable poisons

It can be seen day and night
yet the light of joy is extinguished
in darkness

People are more afraid than they want
to admit and the threat of violence
has broken them of laughing

Common sense rings the alarm bell:
this is not a technological error
no, this is the gateway to hell

The believe in a happy ending jams
the roads, you can't do anything
about the piles of paper plans

Look out what happens to the world
please pay attention to where this goes
before it's too late

This is not a way forward, no no
this is a road, really a road
a road to hell

There's a woman in the verge
of the highway, I know her
She looks like me, like the face
next to me in the side window

She comes closer and bends
forward to my indicator
I break a sweat in the dark
behind my steering wheel

'My boy, what are you doing here?
I turn over in my grave
of all my worries
about you'

Mama, I'm going to work hard
and then I'll get rich
'Oh boy, don't you know?
This is the road to hell

On your journey through barren poverty
from the desert to the source
you got lost, you turned off
to hell'

Do not sit
So close to
The TV;
It'll make
You cruel

Soft shoulders

shoreless summer

out of the sinking

and onto the floatation

hunting for mermaid

while taking islands

along the river's mutiny

blue coda dreamwater

but fire in the organism

the hour is thin

the ice is even thinner