''all our science are primitive an childlike''
(Albert Einstein)
.
Nowadays we are terrible good at science
brilliant mathematicians do wonderful tricks
around the clock with mesmerize result as we go
build a long-term tradition reconciling time
- they can't help- killing and eating anything
like a wild boars burst in the middle of nowhere
account all data from past to past
I felt quite envious you know,
are all so f* good as we call
wearing big hats are the prophets of something already dying
master of master
of our time
even the mist of the future not having escape
like in a ''beautiful mind'' all the worlds sound as a broken code
as a probability
of probability which they can sort out anytime
on a small piece of paper publish in who knows magazine.
.
And here I am
paralyzed, mirrored by my own impotence
drunk in a moody trench of rhymes
not knowing what I am looking for
I can't even account the number of cigarettes I was smoking today
not the number of bottles I dispose
not the years of my lovely dog either
or the waves I receive from the left of my hart
trying to be the ''master of my soul''
I fall always ludicrous over the number of my age
the number of my happy day as they are
the number of my good poems if not one
''and so on''
(Žižek – left inflammatory balcanic gheșeft)
and ''Zone in''
multiplied by uncountable
number of silences.
