***

There is a striking ray of light: right in my eyes, my dear daffodil,
my gentle firefly.
I stroll down the street, thinking of my trousers' fringes
which will be wet by the end as there are too many puddles.
what to say about all the others? I lost two - maybe three -
teeth. now i look like a pirate whose face was scraped firstly
by the lip of sink, secondly by the bottle of beer, thirdly by your eyes.
a collection consists all about private cinema clubs,
and art collections, things that are wretched, tumescent
of its own stagnation. keep a stiff upper lip, my daffodil!
we are going on vacation, he said to his wife,
a swallowed woman of two not-yet-born kids
I am strolling down the street
losing my conscience in private cinemas
while watching Tarantino or Lynch.
'do you like it' - 'oh, that is absolutely mind-blowing'
i adore this, adore, adore
i am losing my conscience comparing people
to the animals. that's all
for this big bang talk.
nobody believes in big bang those days
we pray to pylons of light
as forgive us and hear our prayers.

20.02.22