Poeme XIII

LAND OF PIRATES I

This feeling hits me once again
and my road eyes wonder where i am.
A hotel room,
the garden of the hotel lit by bug dotted lamps
lighting the well-trimmed grass and the plastic chairs
and my sister tells a story
about a toothless guy
who wanted cigarettes.
Where am i again?
That was a bad nap.

Vacations.
Carribbeans.
I'm hungry.

Later, i am sitting on the same spot in front of the sea
with the only company of the stars and the moon.
The pages of the book have become thicker in my left hand.
I look up to see the horizon.
A cruise boat is gliding far away
in the inky night,
its side glimmering with rows of lights
and two big garlands hanging from the top to the deck.
A party night,
a jazz band playing, probably
and drinks and dresses.
I refuse to look at the stars
although i know they are beautiful.
A storied mind wandering in oblivion.

Where is the girl i love?

Un poeme ecrit en Decembre.