Florilège
- LECTURES 89
- Votes 14
- Chapitres 2
Mots-clésflorilège
Ma tentative de florilège...
Vingt cinq années de poésie compulsive, maladive, essentielle, vitale, thérapeutique -- vomir pour ne pas étouffer, supporter ce monde indigeste, vider un peu de l'océan de larmes, hurler la rage qui ronge, adoucir le dégoût âpre et le venin acide qui voudrait tout venger, tout détruire pour tout recommencer de la case départ, en mieux.
Tant d'années perdues, que rien ne sait rattraper, livrées aux regrets.
Sans art ni science, juste mes mots à moi, pour le monde, en réponse à sa folie -- mes réponses.
Les raisons de mon inexistence. Pourquoi je n'ai pas pu accoucher au monde.
Tous Droits Réservés
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