Above the earth and the firmament It is unclear who, actually, has i… Collective truism, our life is a m… One love, one life, they sing, Science contradicts,

Um tiro no escuro A shot in the dark Next time I’ll shoot you in the m… Said the man, empty handed, But not out of resources,

So many masks to bear testimony, Farces played so often, veils of t… Silks and brocades on orchards so… Some although still refuse to be p… Some broken in so many micro fract…

Regret comes in many shapes and fl… Whispers and shouts, mute, empty l… Obligation denied, aesthetics refu… I lament and cry over letters not… Apologies and amends send by death…

Champagne supernova Out of the subject And yet, oddly, pertinent When revisiting a daughter, Such an intimate sentiment,

Who likes a phone call during oral… Who stands in silence knowing it i… Has any rage or hate in so born pr… Poisoned the soul, destroyed the b… Still I will not be an ordinary n…

Rage against love songs Hope they are murdered by Tongs While I live as a pariah of mysel… Dusty old manuscript lost in a she…

Microwave rice with things in it It’s what I usually eat. Now, while I wait to dissipate th… This rude description has been let… Analogue to I, feeling stranded,

Cold slumber, Dark, Dark Hollow, Emptiness, Not easy to swallow,

I always got tears in my eyes Lament of possibilities unfulfille… Sorrows for past futures not drill… Still virgin on the barren plane, Or part of a plague, another,

The morning is alive outside While inside time future waits lan… For personality to take a side, The quiet expiration or a moving n… Which is gaining ground in the for…

Seven o’clock and a bath delayed As indecision wins over the day Or maybe a stale is still on the w… The movie in background now makes… As another pretense to the purpose…

All you had and cannot see, All they said you could be Down you meet the wild tide’s risi… At Mont Saint-Michel, hell in no… Seagull lover, can you say: that’s…

Since when do you know who am I?, Roared the old man with worked, br… And you never will, you little mot… As a tree has its rings, the moment of your discrete appear…

Beyond some pain and distress Lies a world of unending sorrow So profound, so inlaid, it comes with music. One never gets acoustomed