Posts tagged scribbling

TME KMPRN (It’s cool, but it’s not poetry is it?)

TME KMPRN

Taught to dream
not with his head
but with his hands.

Inside he’s naked
and a little girl.
She loves, and alone
They leave, and die
young dos elastique
and so the sea finds
comical the combinations
in French soils .

Now never screaming
froid et subtle
dates nor eyes
nor your voice
added with their wounds
move our city of displacement.

And I am left screaming:
WHY SHOULD I PAY THE COUNCIL TAX?

Bastards.

roots

The next time you’re doing a translation, don’t use the dictionary. If you don’t know the word, pick something that it sounds of. Otherwise, just guess. It will probably be all right.

—-

Somewhere
there is a woman,
her hips wind like a river,
her language like our hands
stretched out in a thousand words.

Spread through the fields the
daggers pass
like
my
thoughts.
But we are suspended like
months upon our words,
in the Gardens where we weep,