In the yarn of life, if you remain
a volunteer wanderer of the seas
even if you have forgotten
to terrestrially align your lunar head,
you shall encounter human-caterpillars
with the sprouts of their obtuseness
and with an air of supremacy.
The last full moon
was cutting in two the August night
when a train stopped
for number one in an emergency
and opened its doors
- not at "Ritz" Place Vendome -
but in front of a stable.
There my mother took me off my star
and how lucky I was
the warm breath of the horses
my first encounter.
For all post-encounters
with the innumerable caterpillars
who post-encountered me
my mother did not provide a spell
Not a single spell…