and
in coffee: future: disintegrating
cube of sugar
infernus: my memory, mirror
...
a beer from alena
(thirty and four)
waiting for foam
to collapse
...
dandelion from eva
(turned seventeen)
waiting ‘til it ripens
for the wind
...
In my own room
I was walking over the bottom, peeping under mirror,
bringing shadows into light, wiping dust
...
This man still insists on hope,
drinks water from his palms, falls on grass,
he learns abc, counts on his fingers
again, smiles
...
the tongue, raw meat.
Fights of gnostic with flowers,
quadrilateral circles,
...
I lie too
(as though I was a poet)
from dzyan
madam blavatsky
up to cantos
...
irrational weapons:
sextant, compass and the sixth sense
moorings under trees
...