this is what i didn´t-
write..

this is what i did-
nothing i didn´t want
that was imperative
the way to live

it was all positive..
beautiful structures
every ways-let others
be..

give me red
and shine the
way
stars and dostoyevski..

(this is what i did)
..then roam the sand
the long road
to the beach

past lucy..
and the palm flower
to the fountain
and moaning insects

past the suffering
schools
of humanity to end
or the end-

where we stood naked
nestled under stone
and played in the brine
(mostly germans..)

fell asleep and slept
off the excesses of the night
before lead
the sky fresh

the sea blue as dreams
light as the one light
shooting the sun
prepare the return..

this is what i did
(as no-one showed interest
40 years is not too late)
at a civilized hour ´bout

eleven, and coffee and
cognac,lily..
i suffered the work
cafe-

a little old man or
lady wanted their
windows cleaned-
we would sit in their

lovely home amidst
cats,china and tiles and
good food for a few hours
and when the job done

they paid a days work
and smiling bid each
other adieux..
and away

for a bowl of bean soup
fresh from the bakers-
chicken and patatas
a craft of red..