I escape in the now and I compose the new. 

I observe and I wander.

We find differences only in the evident
– it’s a lost space, right before
the future seems to begin.

Often everything smells so commonly foreign:
People passing by
while
A pale yellow dizziness is filling the air
and a soft sharpness of clouds appears at
the undefined horizon.
I can tell you more about the pleasure of this day,
about the sunlight coating the pavement at 4PM
and the fog spirits that burst through.
About the lights
that
walk off into a far distance.
The future somewhere behind me

while

Romanticism is clashing with the smell
of the unknown. I remove time so I can float.
And I know:
we are only here briefly anyway.

Exotic hints with no honest destination
guide me through the day.
I read memories in the streets of
spectacular monotony where facts and
fantasies co-exist: In these streets

there is no fear of tomorrow,
there is no concept of time. But

I seek and find those few brief seconds
that have never been but will be.
And I know:
Nothing is as it was just a moment ago.

So I walk – almost as a manual for a
vertiginous kind of joy and
I abandon myself to idleness.
I’m seduced by the thought of inclusive
solitude and I’m seduced by the present.

Yet, I know there is a lack of
physical boundaries.
Yet, I know
it’s never too late to seek a newer world.