Free
It is dark here, avalanche, wave, cave.
For a couple of weeks I have moved myself with the
greatest possible concentration towards the city and now here I lie
in front of a quay hewn from stone upon which illuminating light falls.
Next to me an animal, hardly perceptive, his heartbeat trembles
obscenely against me. In the brief moments when I am lucid
I ask myself: am I an essential part of the river?
If I escape will it then die? Is it the intention that I should
escape? Are there congeners there? Can I live there and
have I been there before?
All those questions make me irritable –
sink back into the depths between the makazi plants or crawl out of them?
Something has to happen, so I brace my neck, vertebrae, tongue,
saturate everything with my willpower to get out of the
black, I sing when I through the tube through the breath through
the razor-sharp hooks everything so narrow and dangerous but I sing
and fall dangerously free on the ground