The cold people from one to another thoroughly powerful
Dreaming of the individualist Italy of 1922 or
Crack German submarine commanders of the First World War;
Telepathic streams of sadism and neo-classical gardens
Yellow then black then
in the
twinkling of an eye yellow again.
The servant, he who slams the door every morning
I see you come over the hill in spite of everything
Towards the cross roads; all meeting; no choice,
Fighting off purity and in some way right about life.
And good luck to the stargazers
Surveyors carpet measurers body and coin measurers
Goodbye to the factory buildings chapels in the wood and
other ruins
…and other ruins
dripping
rainwater from the bushes outside the bedroom window.
I shall lie in the manner and matter that suits me you too.
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