After the Kites' Masquerade

Articolo non ancora tradotto

I suppose there is nothing left
in this plum-hot train
but to write my heart off.

My feet have swollen
and noises still
surround my flames.
'I walk alone
among the jasmine bowers'
says Cressida's heart
to Troilus's ear.
New faces mixed with
muesli fruit and hot cross buns
at Brysons' glossy tea jail

Round chocolate, legal
forms of darkness , neatly
arranged on Hell's Gironi
The eyes of a wrong suppliant
Can drown the school hall
With languid fluid
The Queeny tiffs
cough up my fear of reasoning through the night
the smell of gin and water
and a leather silence
Stacey pretends to go
and I surround myself
with petals' glee.

I'm silent but restless.
My head reads home
but nothing deep has
happened all week
Today the world goes by
without a drop of willingness
to stop the bullying sighs of war

I defeat windmills
and muddy waters
full of life-and-tears jargon
running down to Praha's Vault
I haven't spoken to
my friend a-while
his soft touch sends
my blood racing and colors my cheeks
His steadfast eyes
fix the gaze on future shores
and raises red lanterns
over planes of memory

I have seen a boy in silent blue
I knew nothing of his flights
and long, still watches
over streams of wounded lambs
round and round
a milk round that takes me
back to the land
I know.

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