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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • SURROUNDED

     

    It's business as usual. Most of us are a babbling bunch of sheep, hesitantly bellowing or explaining catastrophic idiocy! For the worms, maggots, worms, sly worms, without exception, always have to bargain with, or even submit to, a superior System which exploits and manipulates its brainwashed victims in a puff of smoke.

    What they refused to understand was why so many loyal ricinus in the stretched tunnels of the bowels, where the stench remains, like a ferryboat-land full of puppets, are replacing bidermeyer-style pre-Century confectioners' shops with new gyms. From grotesque and absurd situations, any action, any escape, can become futile!

    Why do you feel that, as a European, you are still alone and surrounded; like someone who has fallen between rails, a slow, dying montage binds you, suffocates you. You can no longer be at home or free in your city: you are a slavish Sisyphusian beast, carrying weighted chains! They point at each other, as always, when they have to confess or take responsibility for the stalemate of the chess game, and while the celebrities and celebrities of the no-man's-land are competing with each other in the MACHINE-clinics, the filthy, luscious shit-matter is rising in the crawling, totally destroyed, pact-chewing public hospitals!

    For the time being you are still alive, because your heart is pumping and pumping diligently, and even works for you at night, but who will be the one who will look at you every now and then as a human favour and place a small package of food in front of your closed front door, only to leave with three knocks in English?!

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