a full walk around the frozen moldau not feeling the cold maybe they were

golden or chestnut-colored or a stage in between gold and chestnut or maybe a paler

shade of honeygold the glacial moldau but here the waters melt through the windows

of the mánes klub vytvarnych umelcu mánes seagulls quarrel with teals

over leftovers that one there grabs the prey with his spatula beak and dashes off

paddling dizzily swallowing the bite harassed by a greedy dive of seagulls

circling not feeling the cold a full walk around and one more aux yeux

d'or and the cold closely shaving your face but the old dictator fell from his

giant plinth now an empty pit like a tooth hole brute matter like

a mammoth's tooth pulled out and stalin konnte keinen twist tanzen

black humor in the grayish evening while at the viola or the barbarin a vision

of dante's paradise said rodin and he knew what he was talking about

the statues on the karlsbrücke in dialogue with the statues in the congonhas churchyard

prophets and saints who knows maybe talking about the weather dummes geschwätz

a baroque mush of idle chatter spinning time but in a kavárna you can

drink a mokka ohne wasser der härr ober fixed up like a wax doll

repeated and repeating itself in the wax the waiter in a waiter's pose and in a

vinárna at the cup one drinks a fiery slivovitz and one chats in

four languages and somewhere else on the wenzelsplatz die pragerin wenzelnflaneurs

scharwenzelnflaming and who who is who who is how who is where who is

what to stop that life which flows in veins and capillaries in the air

hissing over the sewer ducts that gas flame burning blue alive

in the round voice of the rotund girl watching over the jewish cemetery amid stones

stones piled on stones when life glitters buzzes the voice of life in the

branches of dry bushes who is who for no solutions but new conditions

for solutions that yes for there are no miracles no there is no such parallel paradise

and life does not flow in equal rows it gushes through gaps it pours out from cracks

explodes through invisible fissures and if you can't make one you make a thousand

a thousand drawings filed in drawers and portfolios waiting to burst out like a

waterfall with the welled-up penetrating fury of water defenestrating through a thousand

holes of a bulldog stone dike once solving social matters then begin

the condition-for-no-solution and kruschev knows less about art than my

grand-mère and taking a sip of wine and feeling life the life-giving

irrigation of the capillaries or life ripping the patterns like a root that

bursts an enclave of stone and preferring it so for in the card deck of life

your solidaire card is not solitaire solidaire and paradise is not artificial

but also not parallel the beat of things differs disagrees disrupts

this you can write in this book of yours about landmarks and demarcations

about routes and uprootings about plumbings and unplumbings in this book that you align

and misalign like a card deck glass bead life and eyes of such color i never saw

of that samesuch color bei gott lieber gott i never saw melancolors

a cat that stared back when we pretended not to and finally finely in truth

halfaworld purple yellow-and/or-gray-and/or-purple c'est affreux staring out