The warriors and the billionaires will destroy
Europe. The powerful machines will come
with their war music. Not even God will be able
to stop them and they will demolish the bridges,
the buildings, the blocks, the peasants’ houses,
the brothels, nothing will remain in its place,
everything perverts us, the brutal manipulation
of the light that receives us as strangers,
as wandering dogs, as sexonautes
or as angels of the inferno collects the bones
of the desire, the enthusiasm of the last murmured
syllable, the moans, the funereal whimper
from now on nothing remains anymore as it was
nothing remains anymore in its place, the corpses
become money. All that must disappear
will disappear like ghostly things, figures
hidden in the shadow, the ones who forgot to speak
or to bid farewell don’t know at least how to watch
together. Only the death stronger than cocaine
will truly die, truly coveted for us formerly a disaster.
The eternity is short and fragile ‒ she will last
as long as a tear. Only the grass at the feet of the dead
knows the taste of the living flesh of insects
that devoured her. Purely and simply this world
doesn’t exist and the warriors and the billionaires
are moving in vain. Every love is everlasting.
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