poème (updated)

I'LL GO WITH YOU

One cloud is enough to cover the sun
and in the garden
my cousin swings life away,
as a kid would.

She reminds me of the time when
i swung life away too,
close to the cherry tree and
only bothered by the asparagus plant
that stroke my leg and that i found ugly.
It was forbidden to touch it.
I'm not even sure that plant ever gave asparaguses,
what i'm sure of is that i grew older.

Today, i left the city for the wild country
to find sunflowers all lined up and sad.

The wind makes ripples
in the rye like waves.
I finish a can of tonic
and stare from the plastic chair
reclining back on fragile legs
and sink in an abyss.

When i once left
on a dock called August,
i didn't think twice.
What would i do now?
What should i do now?

Every night i walk the streets
of dogs and newspaper headlines,
of scattered sounds and pouring rain
of pearls and pills
and on a different continent
i see the same faces.

Last night, i was thinking of a big clipper ship
and a beer can showed me one
as it rolled on the sidewalk
from a bum's corner.
AMSTERDAM MAXIMATOR 11.6%
Brewed in the Finest Tradition
SUPER STRONG.

While locking my bike i heard him play
some notes i could not recall immediatly
but that i was sure i knew.
On a not so beat-up guitar
with a sticker i could not figure out,
he played I wish you were here by Pink Floyd
as Gab did,
maybe a little less well.

I wish Gab could have been there to tell him
"you should play it like this,"
but nobody says should to a bum
and nobody says I'll go with you
either.