observations on the used shell (shed, exuvia)
 
 
shall I 
wrap myself in a sharp waves sheet
and sea gods, creatures, nereids and slow fish 
demand for a new brain,
new cardiac fibers,
brand new blood canals and coral 
wings;
 
shall I 
throw myself 
carcass fashion 
in humus 

and between laughs of trees, nymphs
 sneers,
 new born moon nails and eyelashes,
 foxes jaws,
 in order to dedicate my flesh,
 my eyeballs and my panic ribs 
 to that whole world that browses,
 bites,
 digests,
 and turns rotten-boredom 
 scoundrel-limbs 
 into feast, 

mushrooms, 
 pretty grass.
 
 shall I 
 blend with you 
 as you were the only useful drug 
 my dim light on drowsy Mediterranean 
 
 /
 
 I shall 
 surrender 
 and surrender myself,
 attack, assault,
 siege any uncertainty of me,
 with spontaneous blades,
 indigo
 armies 

of snow and silence,
 divisions of sea salt and claws 
 archers and purple-orange landscapes,
 and in forgettable jails 
 throw what’s my 
 horrific remain,
 faulty valve,
 fear and boredom /
 
 yet 
 not one day passes, night or second,
 in which my thought and blood rhythm 
 aren’t far too similar to tide 
 to the eyeballs of a mad horse 
 stuck in a summer storm 
  
     skin is soft 

still


_________________


multipolar


keeps smoking
in front of the sea

thoughts
such as unstable tides,
abrupt paths
with no roes or ferns

one time
slow algae,
right after
joyful lapillus


__________________


dreamlike II 
 

 I was some fish
 sword and womb,
 and the next instant
 between black forests
 fox with Apollo’s posture
 
 thinking about you
 so secret to me,
 unfolded
 in seagull geometry,
 marine wing
 
 and I miss you 
 like gorses miss May
 like crests miss wind
 
 
 II.
 
 far from ecstasy,
 from Dionysian dribble - ,
 spending days and nights
 scorpion calm scorpion still
 or such as in the wave
 seaweed dances. 


______________________


hybrid
 
 
 such as mute sphynxes, or asps 
 we do wake up, twist and pull back
 daily 
 
 -moon eyelash 
 mulberry viscera
 coral nerves- 
 
 at the end 
 as river beds do only 

remain
 the sea,
 the spiky ink
 the dream of you of you naked
 of your clavicle/
 last iris
 -they stop my blood-
 
 -shells, carcasses, fishbones,
 defective kidneys, a smooth liver-
 
 not finding any vitality
 than the one that comes
 from sensing dead already.


_____________________


masoch (04:47) 
 
 
do not provoke me 
I’d do nothing at all.
 
 
II.
 
I try to sleep 
like and intact nut /
 
at silence still night 
I hatch, paralyzed,
since I saw you in apocalypse, 
in a meat slaughter, naked from behind 
or sat on an iris; 
in a goldmine,
with someone else irrelevant,
or with a blood coral 

on the hip.
 
 without any layer of thinking  
 I ask myself if your shivers 
 do feel me awake,
 tense like one wolf only;
 if your nervous eyelids 
 cover grey of green-blue/
 
 I agreed with the wind 
 quite a long time ago:
 your hair 
 will always tend  
 to the space between my fingers 

__________
sincerely, thank you 
giovanni s.