maria negroni/ tr. anne
..a dream that encircles imprisons us both, soft
idleness, mirrors from Glasgow. Irascible shuttlewinders, at last we weave together,
voluptuous. Hook and curves. Pure sadnesses, de queli tempi. On the crest of the circle,
parallel to the body, to time's panting breath, words do not simplywhistle
any more. I swear love is like this: with a little luck, the circle contracts until it
coincides with the center: I could dwell in your eyes (and even risk reality) for ages...
Rosy or fahrenheits or pennies or peroxide gazelles in subways.
Transitory splendor. Beds of newspaper, inhabitants carefully keep America clean.
Is everything that suffers beautiful? Hours fly quickly in Manhattan (the cold helps).
Joni Mitchell is singing. Wheres Virgil?
you didnt know
couldnt accept beside the essential
the presence of the accessory
for example the world
as if that would dissolve you
would open the way to a desire unable to lead
(to the curve of an embrace)
imitating Paul Anka)
you are my
Maria Negroni, LA JAULA BAJO EL TRAPO/CAGE