For Every Tib and Tom Cat


21. fates frantically webbed

Crisscrossing lines of fate on alleys quite frenzied

One wonders

Why the rapidity

Isn’t it better to stroll along the road?

The procession of cars with the rushing nuns crammed in

Shall collide with the procession of cars replete with the flushed heavy families

That speed on the contrary direction

And what a bother all it shall be

The shambles the smokes the conflagrations

The bodies the bloods

The sirens the hounds

My car was stolen long ago – by thieves one supposes

Never owned that damned annoyance a dog

Never had therefore an “accident” provoked by such a pesky overgrown bug

Now my friends’ house

The same I used to crash in up to the day before yesterday

Was also stolen – by the cops – or the state – (same thing)

Now I see them coming back on the opposite side (my friends)

Across the river of crazed vehicles

The friend in front waves the papers – it seems their legal or judicial

(Or whatever) steps in the city have been successful

Their efforts to reclaim the property paying at last off

The replevin papers in order – waved dangerously aloft where the current

From the accelerating vehicles gathers and eddies in little maelstroms

The friend behind looks more harried

He doesn’t rush with the same alacrity he lags he sags he staggers

He gestures to me that I ought to go back with the joyous friend

Than he is due behind

He has a more urgent matter now to take care of than the retrieval

Of one’s house

I signal that no way

That that’s my goodbye for now

There they go sweating and floundering up the side of the road

Me leisurely strolling down the other

The middle unassailably taken by the blur of hastening crisscrossing traffic

The nodding friend whose whole craving (gnawing yearning) is now

To touch back his house detaches himself

Hangs back the second one hassled disturbed

The opposite traffic darts against him

As my opposite traffic rips against me

That’s why I can’t get the gist of what he says or even gesticulates

That much I gather

That he’s seen some of his family on a train due incontinently out

And he’s conflicted

What the fuck to do

The house successfully reclaimed

The family going away forever

He must go back he’s indicating

He must catch the fucking train

The house be damned

That must be goodbye forever

He sweats he thrashes about he’s about to collapse

But he keeps on walking fast taking my direction now

Overpassing me by far all on the other side of the noisy track

He looks despaired

He fears he won’t make it

There he goes what a distressing marionette

What a discomfort for the eyes

What an embarrassment of a puppet disheveled frayed shabby moribund

He is madly rushing against traffic in the opposite side of the road

Where I’m also leisurely strolling on my way to the same station

Where sure I’ll catch a train

I’ll catch a train or other

That’s a given

Never you fret.

Never so well

Never so well


anyocs de nyacs!

who the 'ell?

La meva foto
C.R. Morell his paltry efforts,