I dare

(second digression about flight)

I cannot buid a wax ring with the slaver coming out

from the metal eyes of impure and holy sex

I cannot sacrifice the torture of blood-staining bones

among prayers spurting in better years’ lattices

I cannot tell one more time the frail balance

of pure and embattled tears in you tired ears

I can no longer lie before the boundless joy

that nothing but the colour of your eyes can give

I dare and dare more and more ‘cause I don’t fear

the obsessed in vanity pills on hot sauce

I dare and dare more and more among offered lager beers

and warm wines of witty intoxication in the swollen liver

I cannot wander about graves full of flowers

acting as a wise old man, expert in life

I cannot turn into poisonous ivy among grey and prickly plants

breathing air in pinky oblivion holes

I cannot play the logorrheic wandering fool

of  the violent fall into thorny waste paper scrubs

I can’t believe once again you don’t hear the steps

of my timeless feet on empty ground

I dare and dare always more among people’s disbelief

exploding to the rhythm of rock and roll’s slaver

I can’t escape from TV that charms me with her lustful

whore’s breast with legs opened to pleasure

I cannot hide my long and curly hairs from the carnal sex

emitted continually by the telecommunication power

I cannot dance playing percussive and eruptive drums

while you eat pork and scratch your balls

I can’t pretend nothing happened while you fuck radio waves

whose frequency vomits for its reached orgasm

I dare and dare more and more ‘cause I fear not the shitty

crazy poisons that want to bagger me

I cannot rape continually the reading of clashing lines

while I let myself go into familiar arms

I cannot rear an eagle’s eyrie if in the end they’ll fly away

leaving me as a desperate and failed bird

I cannot hear the unceasing noise of planes

ready to head straight into my mouth to buy bad oil

I cannot bleed at the hair for the blows on the head I continually get

when I dance to a Bach’s tune in the yard

I dare and dare more and more ‘cause I can’t bear – I never will –

those bastard friends who love to screw me behind my back

I dare and dare always more shedding tears on my twisted guitar

hanging on the bones bent to so many drinks.