the queen of england

show your darkness
ghostly shadows of love affairs,
frozen lakes,
fallen trees
in the sour throat of this november night,
show me the reflections of the rainy lights in
an abandoned parking lot,
in the big neon-smell heart of america,
motionless,
beating like a six shooter
before your animated eyes.

a child is coming,
water is rising
and Joan of Arc has been finally tamed
by the mediocre,
empty baboons,
inmersed
in the average dreams
of the self help books

all the turmoil grace of your beatific-sacred-bloody heart,
that made an angel out of you
a savage,
a miracle in this world of dull,
restrained in the heated walls of the dead in life,
your voice
just an opiated lost echo
lost in the dew
and in my tears. 

the trails are vanishing
a dead crow in the rotten dirt
is your last word
and I remember how much I loved you

they haven´t killed you,
it is much worse,
they’ve killed both of us

ghostly shadows of suspended love affairs,
a smile in a cab going East
caught from the wrong side of the window,
no cigarettes or bourbon anymore,
just one more cup of coffee before you go
such bad luck
such...

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ghostly shadows of pure love affairs
moving in the bright yellow leaves
like a good snake
in the name of the lord

the lava washed away the pain
and the birds fly away under the hellish sun,
a paradise
down under the throat,
throwing stones
and million year spells
while all the black horses
run down the champs elysees
and the money- cavalryman
with blood coming out of their ears
and swords in the arms
and the crystal whips devoured the dreams
that used to hang on your heavenly mouth like a
petal
a blade that now cuts the tongues of those who believed
in the quiet pulse of the northern stars
under the seine’s smog
and the bateaux
and the dogs
and the drunks
and the miserable lovers

and I can still listen to your words
very soft in my ear
while I was kissing your neck

“Oh my love. My life. You can’t imagine how much I have missed you”