Using the fly that's drowning in a bowl
full of nothingness
do you use it as a tiny weapon of excuse?
or are you hopeful that it might actually spread its wings
to you?
Hanging from a tiny rope
There's no use
Hanging from the loss of control
Fine excuse
How could you believe the grocery's story
had sold meat and fish and solid things?
it was only yesterday
when you crossed the road and saw
that it was gone
And you made a thick wish, nice and bold
God, oh an apple how I would love!
And then you'd crave for more
For, when the simple's gone
and the illusion gets more old-fashioned than what's already old
You stand helpless and alone
Waving your hand like a monkey standing for a tearless clown
Gawp
Then you might be saved
For it's the only way
Play it indifferent and serious
But it will keep being the same
The gaps will get more narrow and selfish
Worse than your naïve walk next to the grocer's store
Did you know he spilt water in a cup
To intoxicate that next-door alcoholic
And did you know he used wine to cover his wounded arm
To pretend that a bit of poison brings some joy?
And did you know he killed a dotard cat
To prove his force before the sun?
And how bloody insane he could become
When hysteria would knock his door
Well, grocer darling
It's just a matter of control
For, when the simple's gone
You're hanging from a tiny rope
And that cat soul you tried for a second to control
Is going back to you in the clear form of remorse
Then you might be saved
From insane
Then you might be saved
From hysteria's game..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem