La petite sirène d’Auderville

“I feel like Chinese food,” she said
“I did not think it will last,” I breathed
The black haired woman is still freezing me
Those eyes that spark
You’re shinny but
Your silver lips are cold baby
Don’t you know?
The little blonde angel just told me twice
I am an actor and they don’t think I am good anymore
Up in the city things are really weird
Sarah is embracing me with a big yellow wig
You know you are so much sweeter when you are close…

I miss you swimming in these old shimmering lights
I am falling on my knees
I promised
I was not coming back again

Minerva, she loves me
Don’t you see?
She is giving me her plea
And she talks me kind
She is married to the jungle
And she leaves
While I shake my head in the mirror
I don’t think I am really here

Chinese gin tonics keep coming in from across the street
Cat woman is biting my elbow
I miss you somewhere deep inside
While I shake my head
And notice
I have been trapped in a wishing well

Chocolate Police
Those thirty five years old models
Dreaming Bergman
burning banana splits
and smoking cigarettes
Girls from Tokyo
And cosmetics from New Jersey
I miss you somewhere deep inside
While I shake my head
Dorian Gray, she said, was just a Go-ri-laaz

Bee woman
Sting me, please
I see you in your bike
With your tender apple dress
Your hair hanging from that little white head
And your lips keep flashing like the lights in a reservoir
Hey I just wanted to tell you
You think your pretty smart
Well I think you’re right
but take care
I miss you somewhere deep inside
While I shake my head
And I can’t wait anymore

I can’t believe you’re talking again
in the radio
everything sounds so more interesting when you lie
Tsotsi is so sad he is going back to bed
All those heroes are so tired to help me
So I guess I will wonder in the streets of Harlem
‘Till I find a good hole to sleep in

apes, monkeys and elephants

I stare at your pale-pink face
in the morning sun
while I spin around the lake
all those skyscrapers
growing from the trees
the grass
and the light brown dirt

and I think about china
and wax
and I bite my nails
because your face is just a white reflection
in the transparent cloud of light
that trespasses you like a neutrino rain
in the heat of the California afternoon

miles away

drinking and hiding
in the dim lithium light
of a plastic telephone booth
in Bleecker Street

I think of you too

Magic rabbit

And how beautiful you are

Under this swords
and all these iron cords around us
and we both here
suspended over the dark waters
and the smog
and the hot tea
the wooden elephants
the tin palms
the tiny lights blinking like amphetamine pulses
deep into the broken hearted gorgeous summer night
shear a tear over us
because I love her
and I will never see her
this night

and the alcohol bruises
burn over us in thin flames
made of Norwegian songs
and little heartbreaks
and loneliness on a Tuesday morning

suspended over the leaves flowing below us
and the heartbeat of pieces of broken red bike lights
passing through us like latex bullets
while we look at the green lights in the office buildings
and think about all those lives
dying little by little
waiting for Christmas

we
hold by Rosendale stones
granite
limestone
and sand


just sand under all that

shit

shit
don’t want to write
can’t write
won’t write

just walk around with a cigarette in my mouth

it is not burning yet

and hear the frogs outside
and switch on the fan
and the posters dance in the wall
by the breeze

shit
don’t wanna see you
fuck off
can’t forget about it
you did and is just your lost

I walk fast through the cage
I undress myself while walking
I hit the walls
To feel the carpet underneath my feet
and all the bugs inside
biting
and creeping
and dancing
and telling me how beautiful you are
and how much I miss you
and that you should leave

But… don’t
Don’t do it

I still think of you

And my fingers ache
So I don’t write
And I don’t know if they are coming after us
Or where are we
I can’t answer these questions for you
I can’t ask them for me
So don’t do it
Just burn slowly
And get the hell out of here
Because I only can see you when it is dark

WASP-12b

I have just arrived home from the ivory coast
the light blue still shining in my dirty
little
stout hands

they still glitter
blinking
like stars
dying all over me
like a blinking aura
made of broken rings
and saliva
and transparent filings
from your skin

I dance
When I arrive
I dance with the swallow
girls
that smell like coconuts and
oranges

their skins so tender
their legs so enchanting
my brain like a burning machine
burning you
burning me
burning like eating matches


and I know I am not there
I am gone


no matter how loud
you call me

I am gone

no matter how tempting
I am gone by now

I am not writing this anymore

is just the machine

not me

not me

anymore

Two other soldiers are lost

Kaurismaki, Kouriutami, casas amarillas con porche de madera
Palmeras, 11S, cocaína
Una piscina azul-Lynch,
Un Camaro rojo
Y una gran toalla blanca

La Iglesia de Cristo, las chicas con chanclas y las uñas pintadas
Masturbarse en el lavabo
Las filas de cajas de cereales
Los cambios de marcha
Ron Paul, papa Nöel jugando al baseball
Thomas Hawkins, Chuck Berry, Ali Baba

Arañas delgadas sobre el agua
Cuervos
Tortillas a 99 céntimos

Batman, Bukowski, Robert Jonson
La deuda histórica
La grasa de la cadena
El ventilador

Me siento frente al ordenador
Y pienso en limpiarlo cada cinco minutos
Nunca lo hago
Tampoco pienso en ti

eternal bliss

supongo que debería decirte que el vino me sentó mal
que me está golpeando el estómago durante toda la noche
como un boxeador viejo reviviendo sus días de gloria

supongo que debería decirte que estoy tumbado desnudo
con un antiácido debajo de la lengua
odiando a todo lo que respira
(incluyéndome a mi mismo)
lanzando puñetazos al aire
como un imbécil
en la noche pegajosa y ancha

con mi flexo chino
mi reloj chino
mi bolígrafo chino
sin una jodida palabra en la cabeza que no sea

mierda
puta
cabrón

me gustaría romperte la cabeza con mis propias manos
mientras las ranas cantan
y kate me sonríe desde el muro

earthquake

don’t ever come back

please


ever



is 6:30 in the morning
in the blurry city limits
by the river
the orange sun burning in the
skyscrapers
like a sweet fireball
hitting the stomach
of the hurt wooden piers
and the red bricks
and the rats


don’t ever come back

remember my words


don’t remember my closed eyes

my cigarette smell

the sounds of my bones
trembling
frozen
against your skirt
against your winsome lines
wet in your rotten cotton smell

don’t

don’t remember
anything
but this

don’t remember
anything

but my last words