how it demolishes all adulterated,
embedded into the bedrock of knowing,
tying the words and the worst kind,
he who walks with the wrong kind,
might find himself in the best of company,
they said…,
there we frolicked near the whorehouses,
the circuses, Le Freaks…,
cicadas of an unknown hour,
trembling beneath our feet,
drums of the Underworld…,
calling us home,
there near the Throne and Crown,
syllables too thick,
bridges flowing over rivers,
brown like a god…,
Nature was its name,
parks and trees and roads and bushes
were my friends…,
and unfinished love poems,
written for some minx,
who didn’t care for one bit,
same goes for its brain,
there in the silence of beautiful things,
my creatures they woke,
Light flowed in…,
like saying: it’s okay,
even if it wasn’t,
and my Beauty, it was demolished,
not by words…,
or crazy Lovers,
but beauty itself,
greater than…,
Madeleine de Proust,
it was,
and I knew one thing…,
that the city is for the unadultarated,
the essence of living, the Life,
of Life itself,
for the pure hearted,
the Dreamers,
naked near the Fountains of Youth,
Black Hats and Alley Cats,
race car drivers and masochists,
feminists and politicians,
plummers and Spiritualists,
superultrasexy statues of women,
figures in the moonlight,
like a tram in Moscow killing Berlioz,
Wolands of this world,
always predicting…,
Soonnitwillcome…, said faster,
than lightning in its shoes,
I love the city as a Master,
like a writing on a parchment,
it streches its hairy and black,
and vulgar words over Nature,
gods of Chaos and Order,
nogodsofmine,
we are only seeing,
what is, was and will be created,
seldom lightly,
but that is the Way,
come away from the Dark…,
and into the Light,
soft drinks by the chimney,
Mexican food and songs from Asia,
someone is walking his dog,
poop bags in one hand,
a child in other,
it notices me noticing it…,
by the look,
we realize both,
that the theater is in motion,
and we are the Actors…,
magiciansofperpetuummobile
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