Trafika Europe 14 - Italian Piazza

Poems

L’atempo - Non-time

I slide, I slide away into nothingness of a day of uncertain rain and TV.

I overflow with orange peels between my fingers mint leaves in the tea and maybe a few dragged footsteps How much does this Sunday morning really count?

Mi tiempo se había ya perdido My time was already lost

Yesterday when I knew today I would do that nothing

Et je creuse en termite dans les trous de l’inconscience And I bare like a termite in the holes of unconsciousness Avide, avide je me perds dans les méandres et les herbes hautes déjà m’étouffent Eagerly, eagerly I get lost in the meanderings and the tall grass already smothers me Moi, je croyais pourtant si bien pouvoir me sauver. I, who was so sure I could save myself.

And I play with alibis, my wonderful words My wonderful ways

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