robespierre and others

BOOK III
PLATO’S HEART

robespierre and others


33

the dominance of repetition, excessive dogmatism
chained to a radiator, tied to a bed
with lessons learned, with bulging pupils
look under the blanket for dead vectors
they'll show you the way, they know your way
it's gonna hurt a lot, it's gonna be a long time
stones, sand and pebbles, barefoot, sunshine
you can't go back, you can only turn around
to burned cities, abandoned islands
on hallucination cells, on mages and their spells
on officers waiting for your crucifixion
make mistakes...
satisfy the notebook
a revolution on paper
in deed, the walls of the chamber are scribbled
Symbols, signs, an untranslatable language for These


34

it still beats
it no longer believes

which one of us won't come back?
I'm leaving the shore, leaving the sea

I'm going straight to the moon
I get lost in the hills and the cold

the stars are pointing North
to the sealing of loneliness


35

the bag of my charms is breaking my back
I see the headless commander leading the poets to their deaths
they die with laughter, they die with poetry
their lines become the sun, they light a flame

reality hardens towards them
angels with lion's heads and serpent's tails are waiting for them
this will be the last battle, the Revolution will howl, poor
Bastille of supermarkets that sell souls

will be burned, the books will be let out
poets will rejoice and sleep peacefully in the grass
death is what books are
in fact, poetry is its infinite description


36

there is no need to quarrel
there is no need to rush to pitchforks
on the Absolute...

...wait humbly for your turn...
in the corner of the corridor, your number is 789
don't make noise, sound is forbidden

don't give away your identity
not a word about yourself, not a word at all
no tongue movements, no ligature work, forbidden

don't make me write a report
explanatory note to the Agencies
speech is made for oblivion, writers for denunciation

and no applause, no appeasement
follow strictly the rules of your chosen language
dots, commas, accents, one understanding for the whole planet

or I'll have to call the security post
to take you out of the corridor and into the street
strip and shoot, revolution is forbidden

NO DEMONS IN THE MINISTRY OF CULTURE (OF BETRAYAL)!
be like the clever P.
who sell out the poet M.