A lesson in oblivion

I never liked the highways and the main roads
The crowded places
I never walked the straight line
When others had goals and objectives, I mucked about in twilight zones
I’ve always been like a clock that either gained time or lagged behind
I’ve wanted to play the violin
and I’ve wanted to forget you,
to pass through you as through a time tunnel,
and find myself on the other side
in a state of clemency,                                                                                                                                     in which I couldn’t care less if I’m alive,                                                                                                  if I’m only subsisting,                                                                                                                                     if I’m drawing my last breath in a cage

When I was 30, I used the money for the fridge to buy a violin
it wasn’t very clear to me by then that I would never learn to play it
Don’t be sorry for me
it’s alright
every desire I had was not to think of you

I danced through trenches,
I walked around naked among circus arenas,
I dug deep holes in the Promised Land
I crept through keyholes
I lived inside the skin of the stranger
I played the village fool
I was a guinea pig and survived
I fought both sin and virtue
just so that I wouldn’t think of you

I set absurd laws on reality and reality followed them
I fought with almost everyone for almost nothing

I dug my claws into the flesh of idols
I washed my bleeding hands in the stale waters of the city
I banged my head against every wall I could
I howled like a starving beast while the others were sitting quietly in their places
I run through basements and darkness
I fought both nature and spirit
I pleaded for the rights of crows
I even was a prize winner

I answered with laughter to poor people
I made the masters of silence sneeze
I messed up the truth of glorious men
I militated against the time’s flow
I  found things to do
I worked

I ripped apart all of my skins, faces, names,
trying to forget you

But I keep hurting myself in your beauty
with the same fervor as in the first day
actually, with even more conviction
now, that I’ve got tired of both lust and stillness,
and of the thousand lying mirrors
through which I’ve walked my solitude
as if it were a dog


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