Partly in love, partly free from socialite parties
I’m still being judged -
- on suspicion of having followed the most unpopular
continental fads, trading new trends,
for the abstract pieces of an overstretched mind
So here I am
A frozen– smile for each supersized hero
and their faking outlaws and their framed moves
whose misunderstood rebellions
turn my suspense, its honest hesitation, into a muse
There you were
blame-storming and story-telling afterwards
the wretched patches of the self- blind
those tempted to climb
the windless roofs of the concrete edges
the age-free glass of their temples,
the shameless rushes making no virtues of their consolation
so innocently compromised
There we will find ourselves
demoted by the magical weakness
of beating organs and biting voices
the inner pressures of reassured hopes
and the grey nuances
of estranged emotions and poisonous thoughts.
A conscience always renegades
all these musical pledges and graffiti phobias
without the distantly confusing remains of any idyllic evidence.
