I have a bunch of reasons, all adding up to nothing

nopțile
  plantele de lângă picioare
  cresc din mine.
diminețile
  mă trezesc extenuat
  dar zâmbesc
zâmbetul
  îmi e o revoltă tristă
  împotriva unor adânci revolte triste
corpul meu e sol ademenitor vânătăilor, cearcănelor și feluritor pofte sisifiene

fugiti amarati nemilosi in infometarea noastra
stele sub sori, curand vom incepe sa ne rugam
constipat mintal
ganduri pitigaiate de neandertal
cutite tocite
singurele arme albe-mi sunt oasele, impotriva mea.
eu nu-mi sunt pe potriva

imi pun frana la emotii               mi se spune
sunt frana                        realizez                              cu intarziere
 undeva e o lume in care tu ai radacini in tine
 the crowd is not impressed
lick your wounds happily but keep sadness at hand|in the freezer icy chicken legs pizzas my anchoring in the present | streams of habits run by you run you down
lungs filling stones eroded to riverbeds
throwing fake punches punching the clock every morning
this is no poetry at all this was chimney lungs
treci pe autopilot si scheme prostesc de grandioase se ridica la suprafata iau fata si apoi iti sar in fata
chances keep squirting out of toothpaste tubes and drop in the sink
this age of abundance welcomes our dance of nothingness
tentative de a de a de altceva
do trust falls with yourself, see what happens

1, calmly demonic clouds turtle across the sky |actually| across my window
oftentimes I am also clouded
the eye of the storm   blind to what is around
2, wonderful cloudy beasts hang in the blue
grazing/feasting lazily

last night bukowski cried me all over
to some i wrote quite drunkenly
to some i wrote fairly soberly drunk
to myself so wasted that i could not write

in the afternoon morning
                       [eyes bulging with drunkenness]
I am washing the paint brush
recollecting arranging and aligning my teeth

daca esti o fantana
cate monede poti baga in tine pt noroc?
si cat noroi poti curata din tine?
si pana la urma
esti potabil?

one day I will buy myself a vacuum cleaner and perhaps that day my life will be less dusty as well
someday my hair will be the length that I most want
I will buy myself footwear fit for kung fu
one day I will buy myself a water filter and eat more organic produce
someday I will defy my own nonexistent expectations and perhaps that day I will dance naked in the rain
someday my pile of books I don't read will be fitting to the pool of shortcomings in which I dwell knowing terrifyingly and serenely that there is no way        I prefer peacefully chaotic stumbling and limping to well-rehearsed choreography 
by the time I will be able to keep my back straight   my knees will be cut down   by the time I realize my painting style   art will be a bone of the past tattooed on the inside of eyelids   by the time I rejoice in small spaces   time will stop being circular linear   who knows what portrait of equations will appeal        by the time my concerns go to trial  the justice system will be dismissed
I look backwards and wonder how could I have been so foolish as we ask ourselves why people were burned in middle ages
I will look backwards and wonder how could I now have been so foolish as we will ask ourselves why people now have been so eager to connect that they disconnected
the backwards will look forward and wonder how I will become so foolish as our backwards look to our forwards and ask why mindlessly believing in gods turns to mindfully not believing
until we would stop daring to look back/in/for-wards and ask


frostbite me!