Cenno

Arrival in the midday heat,
Horse and rider alike
struggle in the seat's crevice,
Swinging door opens: let the fun begin!

Spit into the spittoon with a plonk!
Bar shadows sway drunkenly,
(Piano clangs honky-tonk)
lost in self-conversations.

On the stage: penance and atonement?
Goodness: dancing melons!
showing their cactus bloom,
nylon stockings with blue beans.

In the restroom's damp tightness
there's busy jostling,
in the stall a quick sway,
supported by booze and spank

Pants in the knee throat,
one wobbles unsteadily:
“Shit!” curses the poor soul loudly,
unstable the thin planks.

Fourth wall shatters, pales
body falls into bright land,
physique tips, softened by spirits,
urine-soaked in hot sand.

After two dirty days,
the hero sets off - not very wise,
stomach queasy and hollow,
on to the fragrant journey ahead.

In Mediterranean glittering blue
radiant sun glow,
under colorful parasols
flowers conjure unabashedly
(buttery brushes of an iris shower)
fruit surprises from the hat.

Distracted by such magic
relaxed in false security,
summer heaviness meets laissez-faire -
sharpness was yesterday:
Abduction! What a tragedy!
Perpetrators - unknown!

Rushing over high cliffs
the winds of the car ambrosia blow.
Spicy, the sultry breath of jasmine
comes in the form of cold smoke
on labdanum's lip edges
like the virgin to the child.

At the destination, vanilla velvet concealed,
abducted on sandalwood yacht,
brass-moss motors resonate
in moonlit ears,
losing the last trace...

incense curls through the night.

In the distant land of the Aralians,
in the form of cult rituals
and carnivorous tales
from long-gone, bright days

Hedera's song is told.
Overgrown tonsil stones
form where Hedren parted,
the place for all her bones:

at the cemetery on the cliffs.
Rough thyme-sea salt lips

Crust sounded for the final journey:
in synthetic-green sheen,
Saint Elmo's firelight song.

In the final drydown - after eons
that have passed with the wind -
a hint of animals and ozone
is Hedera's last testament.