Utopia

I was walking down an ordinary street
Hanging to my pale figure
A ghost with the appearance of a giant

In front of my astonishment
He handed me a bouquet of smoke
I fled without thanking him

The rain made the sidewalks laugh
With a great deal of soaked slaps
A powdery mist was sliding on the black sky

Haunted by the demon’s largesse
I hit a garbage hole
Filled with his blood
Fear rushed through my adventure

The Gods hidden in our homes
With their sincere eyes the world of the living
Tear off with a laugh
Our condition of believers

Once my fright was over,
Seeing the front of an antique shop
I waited frozen like a second in Time
For midnight to come

The scrap metal scattered in the indelible frame of the buildings
Have caressed my clothes
A newspaper found itself projected
On the heavy lead of a lamp post

My compatriots appeared
Like panicked apostles
I scraped the earth to find
A betrayed rhyme.

Crime of purity in the silence
I fired three shots onto the evening
I want to be there when the sky collapses

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