Red Poem

There is a new world at the bus stop

Nonetheless, one world just it will be

And will become such as any other

A foolish, apathetic and rebuilt one

That refuses catholics as placebo effect

That emerges from a thought, branches and substantiates itself

That will get bored once again among the unmeasured self-proliferations

And it will devour itself.

In the end, I will be back from it.

I will stay in the present

Simply.

I stay because to nowhere I could not belong.

I am of the whole universe

Natural in nature

I am wood among titania

In a world where everyone must boil, I burn.

I

Disappeared inside an infinite with eternals infinites

Stagnated in an electric instant

Maggot of my social disease

Of the saturated love, rarefied

Consumed in full boredom

Dragged by the complex dream of living

Deified by the cockroaches in my apartment

I

So

Belong to this redhead of my imagination

This gingery girl who lives at the bus stop

And that becomes transparent exponentially with my approach

A redhead who lives on the walls

That climbs my daily life and haunts my future with her absence

Who is not a human being

Who is my fantasy of the ideal

Who is my ideal of fantasy

Through my reflexive nightly walk

I decided to create my own paradox

I packed my bag and went on my way

And I never saw me again.

                                             Cesar Domity