black, red and white.

silent, I walk on a black floor
dressed in my black clothes
white papers shuffle in my hand
and the red pain has dried upon my skin.

frozen. I stop.
and I wait for the sentence to come,
and as long as I can dress her
as long as I sell poultry.
I won't. Be shouted at.

move, there is coffee
but there is no machine, coin or cup
signatures on no lines
ink without a pen.

pause.there's invisible smoke
that rises from the street vent,
we can only hear feet on paper on floor
and feel the need to rush vertically
papers in our hands.

slow. pick her up, she fell.
I have no boss, I work for myself
which in the end
means I'm selfish with my art.

stop. line. rush.
the fairy wings are twisted
and I save her and sing an improvised song
a fool of myself
but she dies anyway.

move. sketch the plan.
file your paper
end it on the ground.

stop. say the line. twice.
waltz with your chair.
waltz on your own
the french msuic makes
us dance.

Laugh. pick up that chair
move the white gauze
drop all you paper.
laugh.


And its the end.