jueves, 29 de marzo de 2012

domingo, 25 de marzo de 2012

Universal Decimal Classification

Amy Mascena
by Amy Mascena

is your loneliness, my love
what keeps me coming back to you
again and again 

moon after moon
wind after wind
life after life

your loneliness,
not your silver like skin
or your vietnamese tattoes
or the way you used to kill all those chickens back in the farm
is your ice-melting mountain-top-bending knees-breaking
my love

it was the last thing on my mind when i left the village
it was over my tired eyelids when i flew over the heads of my enemies
like dirt,
it was on the bright surface of my knife
when i cut my throat
and in my dried up hands
like old rotten fake maps of the future
aging in the millenary dust of this galaxy

your loneliness
my love
your riddle-like eyes
your blood

ties me to your half open mouth
like an iron anchor
finding it s way through the dark
north sea waters
deranged like a mongolian thirsty warrior at the golden doors of budapest
with his canine tooth out in the humid danube dew
smelling the scent of the incense pyre
and the silky beds
and the sweet-tasting lips of revenge,
seeking for the heart of the sea
and your flesh
to bust in
to bleed it out
to survive

my moon like lover
my only untouched dream

you revolve in my uneasy mind tonight
like a pagan psalm
while all these lights are falling from the sky
to haunt me
and i keep hiding
whispering your name a million times
like a secret jungle spell
to keep me alive,
under the leaves
and the shades
and layers of oscillating
soaked to eternity,
waiting for the storm to stop
shaking my guts out
expecting to break into pieces
walking slowly in the memory of a dog
in this neverending sweeping white fog
in which i loose my consciousness

abandoned wooden houses
for the mosh
and the sins
and the single cab drivers
who have a hole in the stomach
and a mouse in the brain
eating the inside of their eyes
and thinking about the clash of civilizations
while i dream about the arizona highways,
and the rain in washington
in an endless loop
on that summer day in which we fell in love
just as if we were sinking in the sand
no words in our mouths
no sounds in our ears
black cloth in our eyes

keep the motor running
while i clean the weapons
turn the damn tv off
and light up the cigarette

to stare at the window
and think about Brando
underneath this beautiful light rain
that comes down like hypnotizing trojan sparks

and go back
and think of you