Compulsion

In the winter evenings
Solitude devours my nerves
In large painful bites
An endless dismay
Deep in the eyes
A sordid hunger
Leads my furious sadness
My arms
Beside my body
Like a turned off merry go round
Dreams are too precious to be dreamt again
Everything becomes forbidden
The crime of living
Makes me eternally convicted
While the pornography of the common pride
Abuses us
We are the naked men
Mute carnages
Hidden in every face:
Nothing changes in thirty years
But the awareness that this sensation
Is no longer a menace
But a bitter truth
To face with
There are no real victories
In our past as in our future
Our empty hands
Desperately try
To hang on a so far womb
To hang on a likewise loser:
We toss our bodies
Against each other
Like in a car crash
And we call it love
And we call it life
When it' only
Compulsion
Compulsion