This morning
 there is no more gasoline in the sleeve ,
 the ash is cold ,
 we would have put fake flowers
 that the effect would have been more smoking .

 Not enough to lament ,
 there is also a fight to fight .

 We fight , he is bat .

 But against whom ?
 against what ?

 I fight against Pierre or Jacques ,
 while it's me who imagines lots of things about them .

 I fight against the world ,
 but why cut the branch i'm sitting on ?

 I am fighting against nature ,
 but why fight what feeds me .

 While life is here
 like this water
 drip 
 of a clepsydra in imbalance
 the glass iridescent by an emblazoned sun ,
 like this hourglass
 which grain by grain
 nibbles the time of conflict .

 Any fight seems ridiculous
 because nothing stops life ,
 go forward ,
 go around obstacles ,
 walk ,
 ascend ,
 even go down ,
 to go up , rich in the ordeal encountered .

 Never force the passage ,
 not even to drill a small hole in the hollow of the memory .

 And my cigarette still not lit ...

 ( Photo taken from a work by Elianthe Dautais ) 

 218

 Sedimentary frostbite on your ebony skin ,
 the storm requires sound and light .
 Dance of water and reflection ,
 texture rush ,
 intersecting genealogies ,
 connections are made .

 Sharp gaze
 of the man already there ;
 in reception
 scientist signals
 that are ego demands .
 Expanded consciousness ,
 vigilance and porosity ,
 thin slice of the moment
 speaking the word
 le temps d'une caresse nocturne .

 This will in ancestry ;
 image revelation
 bromide in his bath .

 Awakening of each fiber
 in the rainbow of weaving
 out of the frozen detachment ;
 ultimate school
 where the expectations
 deflects doubt
 and delights the new meaning ,
 trace unique ,
 old music  ,
 the lilac of fragile nights ,
 soap bubbles ,
 pointy hats ,
 Magic wand ,
 for stars of your eyes
 révéler le dialogue avec l'invisible .


 219 

 In necessity of chance ,
 without linearity ,
 without the label being stuck ,
 there is no plan or law
 pour cette occupation d'espace ,
 we immemorial ,
 to blindfold in front of the evidence ,
 de coïncidence en coïncidence ,
 lift the veil of mixed signs and words .

 In the garden of delights ,
 Isis nude ,
 Isis the decision-maker
 that the discord makes give up the livestock ,
 Isis the very beautiful ,
 the streak of our dreams ,
 the correspondence collector ,
 the cosmic embellisher ,
 the whisperer in the deaf ear ,
 the woman made light ,
 in perpetual overlap
 of immemorial breath
 that the big tree proposes ,
 devolved tree ,
 tree at the end of the world ,
 arbre élevé dans la métaphore ,
 fruits of indecision ,
 fruits replets du plaisir à venir
 flowing , river of a time
 between the real reefs ,
 le long des golfes
 of openness to the divine
 that the beast proposes
 in the quivering of his mustaches .


 217 

  To want to seize ,   
 of this effort to pronounce your name ,   
 of this insistence on taking you for granted ,  
 of this tourism to the places of birth ,   
 of this lack of grandparent tools ,   
 from this gorilla to the phylactery ,   
 Sylvain my son, speaking low ,   
 with words from an elephant trunk ,   
 of these breaks between objects ,   
 of this hunt for disjointed words ,   
 the door opens ,   
 reveals ,   
 organise ,   
 exalted
 the chaotic world
 des grands chevaux de la présence  .
   
 Stealth intervention from inclement weather
 liquids and solids
 mathematically inclined
 à la levée du sens .
   
 There was a time of presentation
 alive and fruitful ,   
 twigs and dry grasses
 on the lapel of the jacket ,   
 in front of the gate of reality
 place of the fall body ,   
 place of elevation ,   
 lieu de joie au-delà de l'oubli .

   
 216 

 Live in intensity   
 in college of tight hearts ,   
 open gills ,   
 reflection of rising souls .  
    
 There are beaches crowned with jellyfish ,   
 of joint complaints ,   
 the sacred orb allowing the hand to pass   
 outside the palm groves .    
   
 Waiting ,   
 immobile  ,   
 to be present   
 at the first hour    
 of the sun slamming its excessiveness   
 behind the sharp rock   
 made according to the jolt of birth .   
   
 And harmony   
 to be fulfilled ,
 no longer draw with our gloved hands   
 to donor sources ,   
 be the quick ,   
 scarlet fever ,   
 the no regrets ,   
 The radical   
 on the garland of moments  .   
   
 Let's set aside the landscape ,   
 let's be the only trace   
 at the center of expectations  ,   
 let's be bronze bell on the fly   
 speaking   
 on the loam fields ,   
 let's be the service   
 on the wing of the phoenix .  

    
 215 

 What exceeds man   
 at the end of life ,   
 a peninsula .   
   
 With for isthmus   
 what we are ,   
 fragile man ,   
 in our finery   
 of science , of art and spirituality mixed .  
    
 To be a man among men ,   
 unborn human humus ,   
 whose roots plunge into our vicissitudes ,   
 we ,    
 the wanderers ,   
 the poor doing genealogy ,   
 for step by step ,   
 from posture to posture ,   
 rise to the accomplishment   
 with a lot of fifes and tambourines   
 we ,   
 the matamores of the established order ,   
 the couriers of the emotional horde ,   
 adorned with the feathers of mimicry  .  
    
 There is a time   
 so close
 a fearless time   
 a time beyond our time   
 that the new man walks   
 in his thinking life   
 fit to be   
 beyond our minerality ,   
 of our animality ,   
 of our historicity ,    
 a conscience with propitiatory signs ,   
 a graph of the Unknowable .    

  
 214 

 Finally aging   
 and let the wind come to me   
 cool on the neck . 
     
 No matter the age   
 as long as we have childhood ,   
 no matter the paths taken   
 as long as we have the vision ,   
 whatever the weak body   
 provided we have height ,   
 no matter the addiction   
 as long as we are mature ,   
 what does it matter if you can't climb the ladder   
 because we are ladder   
 with this freedom to connect .   
   
 Openness and softness   
 of a peace adorned with small steps    
 around the pond where everything rests  .    
  
 Finally aging    
 and let the wind come to me   
 cool on the neck  .    

  
  213