Παρασκευή, 16 Ιανουαρίου 2015

The journey.




artwork  Timwnas




What he feared most was
  to miss his journey.

 some bread and
ham squeezed
in the bag.
Schedules  alternate on 
luminous  boards
Loudspeakers, suitcases that crawl, transit.
Yellowed fingers 
rubbing his eyes
to awaken.
Road.

The embarrassment of awkward penetration
haunted all subsequent acts.
Flawless smiling faces in cellophane.
Humidity and swollen clits.
Dry mouth.
Rehearsed words with coffee.
Pissing before boarding.

Every year he
shrinks his clothes
 Every year appeared taller
Every year the crowd around him increased 

 Every year, became more ugly
 meanest, 
 dirtiest
  He was like a sorrowful disease.
  A sick sorrow.
Dehydrated.
He knew that was
impossible to feel.
To feel something, you need to be present

Nothing was the same anymore
Not even his reflection on the mirror
Frayed picture, 
 moving at
synthetic liquid road
without destination.
Routes, bus schedules,
loudspeakers, boarding, departure.