They never closed the curtains

She sat on a director’s chair

that read “antagonistic yet charismatic”.

He stood in front of her

wearing just a cowboy hat

and ballerina shoes.

She had a toy gun

pointed at him.

Their eyes were glued

by a childlike magnetism.

The scene made me uncomfortable

like talking to somebody with shaved eyebrows

and a mullet.

All of a sudden she shouted:

“Bang!”

And only after a perfectly executed pirouette

he dropped to the floor.

Dead.

-

At the fishmonger

I got lost in the cloudy eye of a sea bass.

I could see people with milk moustaches

at the blackjack table

waiting for their dose of dopamine,

while half naked ladies

were giving away flowers

and fully naked men

were giving neck massages

with a knife.

At the sound of a tinkling bell

they all rushed out to watch the sunrise

like Pavlov’s dogs

with their tongues out,

eager to taste the orange sky.

-

A photographic intermission

-

People watching in the City

Awkward bankers

running in slow-motion 

to their voluntary exile,

a desk among the clouds

made of gimmicks

and relatable despair.

Constantly getting closer

to closing a deal

that’ll buy them distance

from their colleagues

from their neighbours

from their lives.

-

Leave the door open!

There he was

after a journey that took two sleeps

facing the family home. 

The tree he used to climb with his brother

was still there,

staring at him,

waiting for him 

to dive into his childhood.

Images started flashing through his memory

like quick-fire questions on a game show.

He answered with arrogance,

the arrogance of someone who’s got nothing,

nothing to lose.

Leaving the audience speechless

and himself breathless,

as the hands of loneliness

dragged his stomach to the ground.

Anguished, he did what he used to do

when his parents

switched off the lights for bedtime.

He yelled. Leave the door open!

-

Brain dump

Like a found object

with a lost soul

here I am,

covered in spiritual vomit

from an overdose of advertising.

Talking to a damaged fox

about freedom and art

on top of a pile of dirt

that looks like my conscience.

-

Gold tooth

A comb with a gold tooth

walks into a bar

where a bald man 

painting war pictures for drinks

tells stories of chaos

and ambition.

People dressed in chess outfits

talk about feelings and vibrations

in a collaborative effort

to capture what’s not there,

the missing element

that keeps curious minds curious

and unsatisfied.

-

Tuesday

I opened the fridge

and I saw half an avocado

dancing on a pizza

surrounded by a family of broccoli

in an orgy

being watched by a tiny Martian whore

sucking on martinis

while getting her toes sucked

by the lady on the banana sticker.

-

A photographic intermission

-

On the tube

She slowly walked in

and chose to stand.

Arms crossed,

impeccably dressed.

The left hand clenched

in a fist,

a pack of kleenex in it.

The right hand free

to reach for the eyes,

red

yet peaceful.

Staring into the void,

or the future.

Daydreaming

of what could have been

with an expression

that rarely graces the face of adults.

I was jealous.

-

An unconditioned reflex

The uncontrollable nature of attraction

fascinates me

like blushing,

lighting my face red

to match the hint of polish on your toes

peeking from beneath

the sheer transparency

of black pantyhose.

-

My toddler self and me

I dreamt of having a beer

with my toddler self.

He was little

but his hands weren’t.

Looked funny,

until he slapped me.

He then hugged me

and cried in my ear:

who are you?

-

An example of powerful art

A scream.

Silent,

yet so loud

that can still be heard today,

within us.

-

Has this always been here?

I drank a coffee to wake up my body,

it woke my consciousness instead.

My fears and my dreams started chasing each other

like a dog chases its tail.

Thoughts started spinning

so much

my head started spinning, too.

Everything made sense

and nothing did.

I spent the morning staring at the freckle on my left hand,

between the thumb and the index finger,

wondering,

“Has this always been here?”

-

A photographic intermission

-

Post box, chicken pox

Post box,

chicken pox,

life’s an itch

that begs a scratch.

Patience is a virtue,

impatience too.

I don’t mind queuing

but not for the loo.

-

Outside the restaurant

They kissed

like their life depended on it,

then looked at each other

and cried.

They both knew it was over.

-

Genesis of the siren wail

Guided by vengeance

humans set out to murder

the temptresses of the sea,

not before torturing them,

turning those once alluring voices

into repetitive laments

impossible to ignore.

There and then

a thought was born:

mimic their last cry

for nobler causes.

To deliver warning, hope,

and wonder to children’s eyes.

-

Classics

Dog-eared friends

taking us for walks in the mind,

to relieve needs of the soul.

-

First date

Two strangers

looking at each other,

figuring out

how to furnish

the space between them.

-

A photographic intermission

-

Lasagna lust

We know it’s going to burn

but we dive straight in it anyway,

no hesitation.

We simply can’t resist it.

We are inherently

attracted to heat,

to fire,

to hell.

Maybe it’s just gravity.

Worth it or not,

that’s not the matter.

Urgency is the matter

and urgency is living.

-

New dad statement

I’m so happy

I can’t stop smiling.

So happy that

if someone kicked me in the balls

I’d still smile.

-

About Simon

Simon's never smoked.

But he always carries a lighter with him,

just in case someone asks for it.

He dreads the idea

of not being able to save the day.

Really, he can’t bear the disappointment

in people’s faces.

-

Pigeons

Technology took their messenger jobs,

unemployment their dignity.

No ill intent in their erratic ways,

nor in where they spend a penny.

Just lack of direction

and purpose.

-

Practical romance

Swipe right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Match.

Repeat.

-

A photographic intermission

-

Dear runaway sock

Courageous soul,

curious mind,

free spirit

who sacrificed security

for adventure.

You left a partner,

a home,

a job.

For light,

air,

freedom.

Thanks for everything.

I hope you find

what you’re after.

-

Flossing

A game of hide-and-seek

taking place in my mouth

rewards me

with an unexpected

moment of mindfulness.

-

Fake plant litany

I wish I was real

so I could drink,

feel the sun,

grow.

I wish I was real

so I could change outfit,

blossom,

clean the air.

I wish I was real

so I could be vulnerable

to bugs,

darkness,

negligence.

I wish I was real

so I could Live.

I wish I was real

so I could die.

-

The sacrifice of the onion

Exposed and motionless,

death shines above its head.

Facing destiny

with the kind of dignity

that belongs to a stoic.

The blade drops.

One becomes two

then rat-a-tat-tat

rat-a-tat-tat

rat-a-tat-tat.

Over and over.

Silence.

A crime scene

never looked so peaceful.

The slayer’s weeping,

that’s what it’s all about.

-

Morning run

Trading an hour of sleep

and less than a pound of sweat

for endorphins,

agility

and redemption.

Plus something to brag about

until noon.

-

A photographic intermission

-

Winds

Like Greek gods

we can rule the winds.

Sometimes.

Winds that can be

fast and cold,

or slow and warm.

Producing sound,

or olfactory experiences.

Or both,

poking the nose

and poking the ear.

Their invisible presence

can be unpredictable, too.

Out of our control.

Can fill a room

with laughter

or fear.

-

Confessions of a clothes chair

I have no idea

how I ended up like this.

Yes, act of service

is my love language,

but there’s a limit.

I can’t see shit

and mostly 

I can’t breathe!

I really wish I was a glass,

or a mug.

Hugged,

kissed,

bathed.

Daily.

Carried around,

treated with care,

respected.

Seen.

-

Green tea

Stillness

of the body

as I watch my thoughts

playing with each other

to the rhythm

of a newfound

muted heart.

-

Autumn

As we get dressed

trees get naked,

in style.

They put their best costume on

then slowly and gently strip before us.

Clearly,

burlesque was invented

by Mother Nature.

-

Brothers and sisters

Human beings

connected

by memories

of a time

they can’t remember.

-

A photographic intermission

-

Tears

When they appear

with violence

like a storm

they clear the air.

For a moment

silence takes over

and I feel

like a little boy again.

-

Music

It brings back

places,

people,

moods

and moments.

The closest we’ve got

to time travel.

-

Yawns

Daily reminders

that we can all become ugly,

at any point,

unexpectedly.

-

3am

One hour,

two faces:

tangling anxiety

or endless possibilities.

Like a coin toss

the outcome is always random.

Embrace it.

-

The life of a disposable coffee cup

(as told by a disposable coffee cup)

Standing

on top of each other,

waiting.

Until a warm touch

fills you with hope.

Hands,

heat,

hands, different hands.

Lips.

Kisses,

kisses,

kisses,

more kisses.

And then you’re empty,

alone

and cold.

Forever.