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misery

  • The small pains

     

    The small pains


    Ah pain the navel

    And migraine misery

    Very volatile Scriptas

    In liberty lasts

    On the shelf I wander

    Medicines offered

     

    To the so subtle reflections

    In deleterious steams

    Of the outrageous chatter

    Toward my jail transfer

    My pains free themselves

    I have too much suffered so much

     

    Thanks to the juice of barrel

    Rimbaud-Apollinaire

    Sharpened tools

    To become some of verse

    I will be your muse-mother

    If you my poet-glass

     

    Broker in its curtail

    In the urn green bulletin

    Blue-sky colour parsley

    But as muzzle

    Barbed sons of iron

    There is our universe

     

    Plural in exile

    Libertarian lover

    Olfactory your slagheap

    In his/her/its magic operates

    Adieu world torturer

    If so much concentrationnary

     

    Ah pain the navel

    And migraine misery

    Very volatile Scriptas

    In liberty losts

    On the shelf I wander

    Médicines offered