Sunday, February 12, 2006

spatiu gol

Afara ninge. As vrea sa ma acopar de ninsoare, sa ma dezintegrez in acest februarie atat de gol. Sa fie doar al meu. Sa raman pierdut undeva intre asfalt si zapada. Sa ma pierd. Sa uit de toate sforile ce s-au taiat, de toate nodurile ce s-au strans, de toti nervii ce au cedat. Si ard in mine, si toate organele mi se izbesc violent in oase, si gatul imi e inundat de flux contiunuu de cafea amara, si cuvintele mor pe varful limbii raschetate de dinti, si sunetele dor, si... si e doar spatiu gol in jurul meu. si totusi ma sufoc.

retoric

pana cand?
pana cand ce?
ce ce?
cum ce?
pana cand eu. atarnand. asteptand.
ce?
totul.
pana joi...
care joi?



Saturday, February 11, 2006

at the frontier of the skin

"At the frontier of the skin no dogs patrol.
At the frontier of the skin
Where I end and you begin
Where I cross from sin to sin
Abandon hope and enter in
And lose my soul.
At the frontier of the skin no guards patrol
At the frontier of the skin mad dogs patrol
At the frontier of the skin
Where they kill to keep you in .
Where you must not slip your skin.
Or change your role.
You can't pass out I can't pass in.
You must end as you begin.
Or lose your soul.
At the frontier of the skin armed guards patrol."