Pierre Martory

You let your shirt hang down
putting on airs of cuffs
at the edge of ending night
like the end of a java with double ritournelles
or the way the canaries in the cage of still-closed mornings

As long as you believe in miracles
You watch the sun fall into the sea
Every evening
Then you turn your back and sink
Among the ferns sparkling from a moon or from the other

Adieu near those fields that smoke disembowels
And that your arm pushes away
For a long time until the inevitable stratum of the
Adieus until the next
Adieu

The yellow line could be seen for as long a time
As the highway desired
And if you fell asleep at the wheel
It fulgurated in the dozing soul
Like a brutal revelation

The flowers I planted along my road
Have lasted long despite winds and cold
Already fiery noons begin to burn
Slyly the secret of the roots
And I know that of my footsteps nothing will remain

You should have heard the soldiers’ feet
wounding the swirls that the accordion waltz
left on the pavement like a mower’s swath
once the parade had passed
you should have kissed the soldiers’ feet