Will you be rich? / What does greedy mean? / Does Sir know Midas, where is he from? What is the goat’s name? / Where does the river go?
And so I find myself stuck in the wrong century / like Peale, probing swampland for bones, / reassembling skeletons and stepping inside.
What’s the first thing you do / in a house you suspect haunted? / You sing.
Now language is a prison, / true communication is impossible, / our deepest desires remain eternally frustrated. // We are the flies nutting the closed window / next to the open window.
I tell cats on the street, 'Hey kitty, she swallowed my cum!' / I told the shy Indian woman in the corner shop, 'Do not be afraid, / for she swallowed my cum!' I even told my mum...
Let it be sparrows, then, / Still dancing in the blazing hedge, // Their tender fury and their fall, / Because it snows, because it burns.
you have no idea / of the distances i would travel / just to disappoint you...
I will not tell myself / that young birds may be starving / if the two were a pair. / For how do I know? / I am not God / which is why I was sleeping / when the cat went out / when the cat came in.
He had a desperate radiance. We asked ourselves: what colour / would his lips be dead?