1917-1935

Place Blanche

this morning put nothing in my path
but the trinkets of death
bells ring years in every minute
years pass by with an ant-fan on its head
years pass by with a vegetable mouth
and genius-fins
years pass by and drive out small years

the light of art speaks of piquant suicide
i close my eyes and find myself on place blanche
the water on the square is choppy
enormous waves leap against the houses
and rip out the lips
that the birds have hung at the windows
i open my eyes
the white manes fly off
dreamers holding one another's hands like blind men
cross the square
the wind caresses the tame plants
i close my eyes
it's nighttime
suddenly i awake in the night
the birds are singing
it's daytime
liquid mountains float through the air
i open my eyes and fall asleep standing in place blanche
the umbel of the stars covers itself with lips

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