By the canal,wet,
I foresee from
our distant cell
wind pinwheels
fussy always.
Lotto and Jupiler
over the humid concrete,
sloth
is quite similar
regardless where.
Big handed women
speak distinct languages
each time,
as an oracle
autumn is
enigmatic, undreamed,
irreductible and generous.
In this place,
a swift and indifferent
anthill,
in which I move sharp
and die
and die.
Catherine has flowers
stamped in its walls.
And I feel a cold
who unables me
to smile.
Shared silence
of those who head
the slaughterhouse everyday.
Dark metal
noble airplanes
overfly resounding
at night.
Chilly breeze bobs
thinned out bushes
close to the railroad.
You know what they say.
After a train,
it always comes another.
After a crap,
it always comes another.
