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You chase the prey

but you are the prey.


You walk around the empty streets,

possessed by an uncontrolled urge, to have,

dominated by the alcohol of solitude,

by the alcohol of your condemned condition,

by this uncontrolled desire,

driven by impulse, still innocent, perhaps.


You are dominated by the vomit of repulsion;

You are invaded by disgust and guilt.


Emptiness, depression.


You get caught up in this dizziness of existing alone,

without protection,

victim of yourself,

exposed to all dangers of the city,

on the threshold of total decay,

mingling with the least imaginable bodies,

without a dream, confronted with reality without illusion –



The weapon is pointed,

the finger is on the trigger –

Why can’t you just fly

Is the limpid bird of childhood gone, child?




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I’m in a mood

I’m in a mood to give it a go

Scream from the mountain

Swear a vow

Be insane


I’m in a mood for a change

Salute you in French

Speak with birds

Go out with nerds


I’m in a mood to let it go




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My mother’s portrait

mãe anos 60It’s an old drawing from the sixties

Time has passed through it

We can see it in the yellow borders

Time… Time?

I still see your strength and beauty

It was drawn by a boyfriend

No, not my father

An artist, like you

My father came later

And with him the institution…


But you were a force of nature


Oh time

Oh memories

You’re still with me

Your blood, and this forgotten drawing in the corner

That no one sees, that no one cares


Many are gone now


I can’t tell about them all


But I see you here

Ready for the future

That now it’s past

A future, a past, of much suffering

But some part of you remains

Not for long, not for long

Life is vain

Everything’s dust

Dust with a form

A form of love







Spoil me

Spoil me
With a hundred kisses
Tomato juice
Wigs and gloves

Spoil me
With a hundred risks
Fussy singles
Drinks and sums

Spoil me
With a hundred inks
Fancy funky
Teas and moms

Spoil me
With a hundred pinks
Pretty nannies
Fleas and bums




wink final


Repeating in the pit

Repeat the pitiful repeat
The fool in the pit repeats
Repeats the pit full of foulness
Full of pity, repeats
Pitiful fools refuelled
By the pity foulness of the full pit
Repeating repeating repeat
Pitifulness in the pit
Repeat the pitiful repeat



Sad thing

I must have something very sad inside me. Not just a flaw, an imperfection, something deeper. Few achievements, lots of denials, an ingrained evil, a sad fate. Isolation. Solitude. I do not know. I go on, nevertheless, improvising solutions, without much courage, without care. I go on, trying to mix with others, but I am not one of them. I am a half thing, I live on the border, I have a so-so life. I am in between. But I try. I do. It is just like that. It happens. It is. It is a sad thing, in me.


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I tried to reach


Step by step

By step

I tried


A kind of


A kind of




But I never

Reached anything

I only fell on the ground, back to soil and Earth and now I am Free

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Question mark inside a box

question mark inside a box

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