The Earth has been here for a long time
but under these snowflakes
that froze my mistakes
it feels it could be the end.
Are we so desperately reaching for the end?
Are we so eager to know the end
that we destroy the place that we're given
by solid hands?
That we slay the living creatures
drench them in petroleum
cut them open with a knife and cook them?
Aren't we supposed to be afraid?
Primaveral feelings are at bay
a frozen bay
like the park and the lake.
We haven't seen the sky for five days
instead of it, covering it
a uniform grey mass drifted endlessly
like the released souls of forsaken ghosts
knowing the taste of freedom at last,
these ghosts i soaked like a ghostly sponge
while my lungs absorbed smoke,
lying on the bed and seeing red.
Red
like the sun that finally appears today
that fills the sky with a new tinge and hue
that changes the landscape and my mood,
that hungs hammocks of purple and orange
to the skeletons of the trees that line
the industrial avenue with its fences and trucks.
Red
like the sun i chase while it sets
at the end of another afternoon,
that is leaving way too soon,
like a girl you couldn't get to know
before she had to go back home, north,
It had just appeared
but now must leave for the moon.
So i look down to the wall
that spreads along the industrial avenue,
holes on the wall are like ballroom for birds.
Pigeons are out on the snowless ground
they patiently pace around
fearless of the cars and the sound.
Une interview de Gabriel et moi (Spoken Words and Open Chords)
dans le cadre du festival Humanist Records: [lien] l'Oreille au Poste du 11/3
Merci à Marie et sa collègue @ Radio Campus
