Monday, 21 November 2011

Nightland


Marooned in Nightland I dream of my unborn son, half man half snake coiling itself around my entrails. I wail in silence, throw myself against the walls and down the stairs to no avail.


Sit down and do not breathe cannot stand the noise don’t look don’t say.






Swollen skies swelter over my head. Walking the same old road, I pass the rail station the shops and the park. Summertime and life is easy. Ice cream in the afternoon , la vie en rose in the evening.

Do you have much to do with colour in those days? Does the fact that the sun shone without mercy grew on you? Was your mother happy? Can’t remember anything.

Tango, music.




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