.
High, for once, and by mistake.
Concerns
Forget the worries
All stations on the road cracked oblique
Every son whom they hang
telegraph poles grimacing and gesticulating to strangle
The world stretches s' extends and withdraws a hand like an accordion sadistic torments
In tears of heaven locomotives
And Mad flee into the holes
Wheels vertiginous mouths channels
And the dogs barking at our misfortune kits
Demons are unleashed
Scrap Everything is a false agreement
The Broun-roun roun-wheel Shock
Twists
We are a storm in the skull a deaf ...
(Blaise Cendrars, La Prose of the Transsiberian and small Jehanne de France )
.
0 comments:
Post a Comment