Summertime


[Vagabonds in the Western World]









All the national roads of Europe burn now melting under the magnetic twilight: summerlove for a purple Sun disguised of heavy shower: in fact: cars like fast-orange cockroaches run between the forests and its pines electric. Neurotically...

The ardour of the sky; sunny incidents of the childhood, desperations of summer: hours of silver by the river (that the Sun owns).
River, green lips, purple Sun. Neurotically...

The summer contains a music that is like the clue of love: naked people travelling towards the Mediterranean, Northern, Atlantic shores: sister Mediterranean, sister Northern: I am Atlantic; where are you sister? The yesternight sky has seen you: the sky that lies under, one of both mirrors; sister...
Overcrowded trains go towards the English Channel now, because the sky is closer to the Earth in summertime! And your lips are greener!
Where all those Renaults, Citroens, Peugeots and Fiats go?: Just to reach the horizon, the end of all the roads fulminated in the skyline itself?
Only the cricket of the wet sunrise knows...




...Over the villes, the sweaty copulations and all the disillusionments of yesterday, only the ventilators keep on türning; like idiotic windmills, like electric automatons of nonsense.
So come on; not all is lost yet (not the blue gold, not the nightmares that turn into golden dreams); and is not lost, because it is...dance time!

Dance, till the red Sun, or the luminous pouring rain announce
...us...

that the night it’s over; neurotically...