Detachment




Extrapolate, elude myself
Grab the lantern tail of the last train for Geneva
Hang fermely to the wheat ears
Quarter in my contradictions
Abbreviate
Spread
Jump out of myself, through any bay, jump out

Not endorse the before, the after
Not go green of disgrace under the putrid breezes of cyanobacteria
Kick the bucket if someone asks for it
Stay barefoot
Not shudder to be unable to groan
And yet

Extract myself, extract, extract

Shake the hand a little for someone to see it has fingers
For him to know
So that I do not have to count them every night to be sure I exist
Being caught sight of, just that, it's already good enough
Unpacked with or without gloves but quickly

Eject myself
Fly over places
Where thousands of friends used to think they could be pleased to be with each other
Climb to the top where, this for sure
Someone will be waiting for me, and for a long time
And seeing me will feel terribly disappointed by his lost dreams of happy barbecues

So sorry for the misunderstanding
Burn myself alive on a hot tin roof, the grease smell remains long in the air

Stay in the air, out of reach of my atavism, pretty close to nothing
Ignoring if it is I who don't speak
Or if those are the ones I look at, down bellow, who can not hear me
Not look for the answer
Scattered like my organs in the weightlessness of some unespected detonation





May 2015