Friday, July 21, 2006


Feeling a little bit hindered
Chasing myself out of a hidding place
That stands amidst Thy tents
Oh Jacob
In downtown Jerusalem
Feeling cherished
By the madness of these happy mornings
That pick up human bodies
From the imagination of the papers
And deliver them to the bad guys
Just like in elementary school.

I no longer drink coffee
Or truth is the coffee always remained undrunk
Whereas now it drinks itself to the imagination
And reminds me of being some sort of animal
Hunting my prey
Haunting in this world of men
A warrior born in a metal-cage
That knew no other villains
Than thinkers and beautiful men.

It doesn't look like a Polis
But at least we happen to talk about it lots
That's what makes this shithole
More human than political
One of the most beautiful places
For dust recollection.

Anything can be collected
Nothing can be recycled
Or Repeated
Not even the stone in your shoe
The one that makes you stumble
Anytime you find another one of your gender
As not even Jerusalem
Can free you from the prison of you being not somebody else.

I feel a little mad today
Even slightly illegal
But it's a good feeling
It glows so painfully
Till I vanish
Till I perish
In morningness
And awake by night
To engage in conversations
To remember,
Perhaps even to hope.

I feel a little mad today
Even slightly anarchic
But it's a good feeling
It glows radically
Till I love it
Till I die it
Till we rain in.


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