shivering quintets tend to lie

- realising the milk tray
being toppled by the cat
thru the back of your groggy feet
maybe having woken up from
a nightmare.

- standing up at the bus stop
in the dead of the night
your gaze at the dark glass of a waiting car
starting to go down to reveal a dreadful face
with a silent maniacal laugh.

- beginning continuously
to forget to give the pet's need
making it remember a human past by the delirious hunger
up to the point that in the end
there will be an imminent death.

- cracking open an eye through the mists of dream
not seeing clearly, nor hearing properly
"something's wrong with me, what's this awful smell?"
running sloppy out to the street
waiting for a vehicle from hell.

- putting an animal to sleep
burying it right next to the brothers
due to a mad attack to its owner
whose head's wrapped in bandages
by the grave, betraying a single shed tear.

a sudden change of format

hear! hear!
now i have half an ear,
and just one crippled eye to shed a tiny tear;
my brows! two black crows!
(disfigured by a cracked spear)
and
upside down stands my nose now to smell my brain,
oh yes,
"i have no mouth,
and i must scream."

slimyrhyme

ichabod crane in a bar
looking like a big dubar
drinking beer after beer
with a lecherous leer!

reincarnation - resurrection

i don't have any brothers.
i killed them.
and i live like a cat:
jumping through the nights of the roofs, now,
not like a yellow fog, nor like a smoke;
just like a cat.

does a cat kill brothers?
and am i a cat?
those, i don't know well,
well, yet i live like one,
and i know i don't have any brothers,
though i still think about them,
though time to time,
though i forget now and then,
that i did have brothers,
and i killed them.

ah, yes, yes, it is hard to be a cat,
standing still under a dead lamp light,
and hard not to have
any brothers, any more.

and harder even
just to live like a cat,
pretending to stand still under a dead lamp light,
and not to remember what i once had...

a digression for the sake of greyhawk: the coming of ali

a crack!--
the air burnt with thunder
the sky shook, suffering a mad laughter
bringing warmth to the friend,
for the fiend, death to the end.

a flash!--
of the giant ax he swung making the air wheeze
collecting the heads of the heathens with ease
this was ali, coming up from the ocean of the mountains,
swearing upon his life that he'll avenge his fathers

a crush!--
coming from his iron-shod feet
supported with his steel-like shoulders
what he lacks in height
he covers with fists like monsters!

a grasp!--
under his arms, to make him turn angry in a second,
just to see it's caleb and valost, his old friends to tease him a little.
and following them, ubor with his staff, latron with his bow,
are saluting this great warrior with unprecedented awe!

Desuetude

I was going down’a street

And a woman stopped me down the street

I asked her what street

She told me, very discreet,

I knew all along,

All alone, I was walking back and fro

For years and years in the same street

With a sickenin’ sanctimonious smile

From ma head to feet

Oh my god, can it be true?

I asked myself, lookin’ down ma feet,

Down the dizzyin’ street:

And a someone said

“Yeah, yeah, son,

You fuckin’ should have done unto others

As you would have others do unto you,

But the ignorant fuck you are,

You just passed the warnin’ signs

And your guts filled with lice.”

I raised ma head, to see the someone

But with the discreet woman gone,

what the fuck have I done?

And where’s the guy that spoke and run?

I don’t think I cried

I don’t think I sat down

I don’t think I despaired

I don’t think I won

…But the street continued to hum,

Continued to pass the people afoot,

Without actually getting to know anyone…

Yeah, as I was sayin,

I was walkin down a street

I continued down the street

With nuthin’ guidin’ ma poor feet

I just walked down the street…

Reader, Digest(s), and

When I cannot find anything else to read

I turn my eyes to my self and look there:
To find sentences in pieces;
Like broken furniture not looked after,
Words misplaced hesitating to follow each other –
Unarrived exclamation marks, unwanted dashes
Commas, all in the wrong places,

Halfhearted paragraphs vainly demanding

For a great ending!
For this boy, (who wants to do the right thing
Learned from the books his friends told him to read,
Unable to find a correspondence with his sentences and theirs,
Still,

afraid of the ones he wrote,
afraid to write his own ones,
looking to read something else,
not knowing whether to turn a page –

Whether full or blank,)

Continue(s) to read.