In the bar
An evening is as grapes of the nigh
And lyrical
You are alone in the great bar
On you , the leaves of the wine fall down
And the light autumn
The gentle heavy autumn
The glasses scatter around you
From pain and nostalgia
You are alone in the great bar
In those bar
In an evening of the autumn
In extinct table , it extinguishes your age
And it sups the remembrance
span ….. span
It cuts the night of meanings
Without heart, it beats
It beats like the inhalation of the death
It bleeds and suffers grievously
Far away , without meaning
Say : I wish if the boy is a tree
To reproduce the idea
Two museums
In the louvre museum
I was worried
As if the wind was inside me
I said to my self
This museum , which lives in me
And I live in it
It packs paintings,
And me,
It packs ideas , illusions,
and desires,
the museum steals me
I told it my secrets
I desires to see its ruins,
I desire to destroy it,
then , over its devastation, I relief And
this museum leads me,
and takes me to the death
I name it my heart
I threw it in the recycle bin.
Baudelaire’s cadaver
When I read Baudelaire’s cadaver 1
Fumes and poisons were gone up from my throat
I became drunk and chocked
Even the throat became narrow alley
