A city is desire for another city
***
in the opposite direction and down
down through unclear tunnels
down through velvet layers
all the way to the clean crisp sheets in your mothers house
to the rattling of the coffee cups
that you hear in your shallow sleep and
to the radio that announces the news
as if the world exists.
***
this city
is your mother and her interest in a faraway island energy.
is my mother and
my interest in her old photos.
is me parasite.
this city is a persistent desire for another city.
this city is everywhere. Its borders fading into
endless striving for now.
***
salty mist from the sea followed the train all through the mountains and plains
coating the passing landscapes in a rustling foil
and every little house on the other side of the window
held promise of a happy end.
women on the balustrades, project into the street,
down to sailors, sticky sweets,
conned tourists red of face,
scent of spices, of the open sea,
the perfect dream of an exotic harbour.
fear sharpens the beauty of the night: You look sharp baby tonight.
numb heart exploded in the noisy cloud of dust.
we are here to remain, in love with everything that is not here
in love with absence.
but the border is open now
cross it.
***
one day we will talk about that sitting on
the juiciest grass
surrounded by pigeons and pelicans
we will eat hot dogs in perfectly round skirts
completed and timeless.
***
she told a lie to a taxi driver
that she was on a business trip
something to do with old languages
the same thing she told to a homeless charmer
that looks good in photos
that looks good on big gardened widows’ sofas.
kids dyed hair in dirty gold, smoking on the highway
doing stunts for stiff, engaged
drivers
your tactic was simple: I want to be a
star
In the yellow glow that rises above the bridges
through the colonnade of people fishing and billboards announcing
design week, you are running to our hotel
its neatly packed soaps and slippers
nicely folded newspapers you are able to read.
alone on the train again along the curving walls
that took me by surprise,
led me
to the clear
to the sea and desire for God
for order
that I pretend to just partly understand
I don’t
not really
just this big water and oily bodies make me desire.
***
her ex-lover, beheaded, came in with
the tide
over and over that body was coming
limbs soft and stretched
his pain of denial made
the long necked palms bend over
pushng through the
sticky flowers
through too public plains of the sunny afternoon
arms discarded like branches after a storm
heading to the bar where staring people
have real jobs and strong hands.
from forgotten city gardens
you could hear growling of the big cats
licking soft thorn sleeves
***
shouting in the park:
“you ugly bitch I wanna stab you to death”
then we could hear a familiar name and loud singing,
and crickets, millions of them, all through the pine woods,
voices coming from the city beach.
voices of beings and happenings that are going on without us
and more and more without us
every moment somebody becomes too old for
certain cities: the strange-looking hair on those kids…
every moment an undiscovered star wears out
but this swamp will love you
preserve your dreams like raspberry jam
that sweetens your ever reducing days
sun is unpleasantly yellow and the big flood wave is expected any moment
shadows are long and slow
insects are falling down from the trees, sand is on the bed
between toes and fingernails
we are cleaning it constantly, the sand is everywhere
you are waking often; we talk often in pauses in between
two dreams
I can hear the city behind the blinds
I can feel it penetrating
the walls
of desired cold.