Untitled

The sky fell to the floor:

its ultramarine reduced to dust.

As if it would now pour:

crude crusts of benevolent rust.

Scripts

"Which tense do you want to live in?"

- Osip Mandelstam 

There was a Poet,

quite prophetic and noble,

who hovered over this greened earth.

"Faith is a bird that migrates . . .", he wrote.

There will come a Poet,

experimental yet eloquent,

who will bless us 

with verses of the apocalypse.

There is a poet,

however

condescending and narcissistic,

living -

somewhere in gutters -

exactly where he belongs.

The Scream 2.0

How would Edvard Munch paint us this time?

At first,

he won't.

Then an HD photograph.

In the background,

a shopping complex -

advertising the importance of trees.

On it,

a gigantic screen

displaying some benefit concert.

Towards the middle,

a figure emerging -

arms open (motion blur)

almost weepy, reacting

as if surprised...

Fitted with a well practised,

clinical fake smile.