Sometimes I can do this...
Love Song of Esteban
Or how on particular days, Pedro and Eliot speak the same fucking language
Sisyphus discovered his own reasons,
and I have my own
but striking against the glass wall in rainy season
might just break my bones
Might just break my bones,
the incessant acts of sporadic nature
but never will the top of the mountain meet the stone
nor will the wall part under pressure
Will the wall part under pressure
And release the gale-force like on the Egyptians
(Was there not a single innocent amongst the thousands that drowned?
Was there not a single beloved waiting to be crowned?
Was there not a single husband, waiting to be a father?
... was there a reason for all of them to die, why did not they live... rather!!)
or will the wicked Moses fix the odds for his pleasure
leaving me clutching at molded ph…
the shaggy dog looks into my eye, licks his
tongue and says goodbye
Will I ask for one more favour,
Will I ask for one more question?
Will I ask for redemption and a vote of thanks?
Will I understand when I don’t hear a reply?
Will I look for one last (first) sign?
Will I taste the last kiss again?
Will I forget what it tasted like and yearn for one more?
Will I ask for one more?
The shaggy dog licks his ear, wags
his tail and calls me dear
As I told you, the rains are here,
Even though it hasn’t rained today,
Maybe my ears are that much more tuned to hear
to similar sounds, on the July day
it rained the day,
don’t you remember,
as it did in
as it did when I asked for one last smile,
as it did when I picked up the leaf and on it, with the black felt tip,
put one last wish
The shaggy dogs smells me over, lifts his leg
and waters the flowers
Did I ask for too much?
Or did I ask hundreds of times, for the same thing? And while asking….
If you couldn’t hear the screams, the pleas, the warnings, the sighs, the pain, the colors, the color of the summer in Central Park and of autumn in Versailles, the bruise,
the letter written within my drawer,
(it might still be there, if you care to look)
the reflection in our mirror,
HOW WILL YOU HEAR IT NOW?
The shaggy dog doesn’t find any trace, of his mate
retreats from my face.