The wind seems to be a rushed company
With a lit cigarette and an open eye,
I could look in flames
without blinking or geometrically twisting my body.
A strong edification,
a respite between two hammers
mentally programmed to flatten
morbid consciousness from time to time.
With bearable sequences,
at the limit of nerve evaporation
or a frequency that could change
totally a human DNA.
Let’s lament together,
there would be nothing antagonistic in line with modern activities,
A few heterogeneous tones,
in some places some disagreements
sounding some failed notes
and rarely a change of décor or a break,
coming after the comma of a common denominator.
But as a denouement the same chaos
A dirty vice
Washed sometimes just to get them wet