Status Updates From Coma Crossing: Collected Poems

We were in the dark and you were talking of hope
The time is up there is no more time
The sky upside down like a bowl
Is emptying into the hole of the dark

But who could force the mask off your face
And the opaque border of your skin
To reach the zero point in oneself that vibrates
In the center dead center and the sire of shivers
Endlessly sending their circular waves
Immobile in depths of the heart the absolute star
The empty point supporting life and forms
According to the circle of torments
Become the secret of blind metamorphoses

from 'Masked Life':

For the enchanted spectator
At the first turn the face is masked
By a red cloud that stretches out
Like the blood octopus in the ocean depths

At the second turn the face appears black and closed
Like a greasy pulverulent mask of soot

At the third turn in terrifying slow motion
The face bares its teeth
The spectator falls asleep

Wakes up walled in
Inside the living belly of the waxwork corpse

IMPURE POEM

At the bottom of the green
Waters of death

The bubble swells
Where the golden dwarf sleeps

He will wake up
One day shouting fire