AN ART TO MASTER

                        Scenes of Rome and water faucet facing
                        the waves
                        pipped waves perhaps but sacred - they broke
                        the empire - I stood there leaning, watching
                        & I had a coca-cola on my left hand - in the other a hanging device
                        a telescope to see the stars -
                        Babel Islands in the midst of spiders, tarantulas - evoking
                        predatory feelings, human feelings for forgetfulness -
                        freaky & chic, cheeky freaks, these chicks - picking salt
                        like silk from where they got severe gastric problems -
                        I don't think I am any day closer to either sanity or insanity -
                        they run away from me, constantly,
                        it's them - not me.
I die while I dye my hair - comb it to make it straight - never will be I caress it but it keeps growing, grooving to its own rhythm.
The night in Madrid is a cold canvas of light - all rubble intervenes, intra veined by artists - nostalgia of revolutions in corners, sharp edges, hedges, bathers in the hose of destiny - so hot!
I miss, we miss, we missed, hissed like the sound of bullets flying above bridges - satin sheets like in the song - sartorial feelings of madness
silence, so prolonged - she was there (no use to me) I was there too, just an embrace, a shoulder, three hundred years in between - now i am speaking of someone else -
then this girl forging my own purity wanting to be saved in a city like this - no one there to witness the synthesis of time passing by, spaces hollow - all we need is not love- that is all we don't need - it exists by itself - all we need is a dictionary, and to memorize it
words no longer valid to the prison of life - better  to write than to say them - it's a clear day in my country - it's a clear country in my day - it's clearness like it's the gloomy, encircling it: country, street, ceiling,
words of frontier, delimitation, central to discourse, to public discursivity - the art of learning a mere word is sadly sailing away - let's find it.
I sit and write - he writes to daddy, mummy - now a mummy can't be that bad - lying down shot dead twice countries apart
I write and sit - I spit, I wish these words were not so hermetic I wish they taught me where to go - if we ever go anywhere -
I have water, faucets running through my chest - captivity, cavern, grotto (such loving word, Raquel) -
it's seventy percent of it - a bundle of cells that carry themselves and how come lungs don't get swollen by the sheer pleasure of drowning
Look now I'm flying, it's a difficult art to master - being like a fly - coca cola on one hand - in another a heavy tile, some words - a dictionary making me look down on a page:
be open, never take it personally be personal, never take it openly
or up the arse, they advise and act like that:
shall we join them now?

LIFE, AN IMPROVISATION

                        (a dance poem for Hagit)
In dance, like in life, it is always important to improvise. Do everything you can around it - there are no mistakes, every movement is one - when you are scared, look around and use what you've got, you'll always find inspiration from people you know around you, from things - memory is a good thing to exercise - if you are alone (you are never truly alone), think of people you know, or look through the window, even a leaf falling will tell you what to do if you listen to it; search , that's a vital activity in life, be curious - all will come your way if you discipline curiosity, even if you find it hard in the beginning - tame the untamable, untame the naturally tameable to you - be in the spot where life and death and the four elements interact; lift an arm with the same hard strength and soft candour you'd lower a leg - like something had suddenly hit you remember to use every inch of your body - the tiniest patch of skin is a sensitive spot and has a movement of its own let the intermediate slowly become the definitive - like the slightest action you make would be your last
stop, walk, stop and walk again - train the sudden, the surprise, teach your body to do what your mind wants, and tell your mind your body is not an obstacle, and it can do things the mind wouldn't think capable of  - nothing is an obstacle - all things exist and are bound to interact with each other - get used to it likewise space - there is no such thing as space - there is only the in between - to be somewhere is a movement that will take you to another place (and another time) to tame space is again to accept you cannot tame it - you adapt to the space you have and at time you push it open
breathing is essential - without it, you'd never survive, but too much will be poison, just like water, just like the food that feeds the body -
feel your breathing, let it flow out the same way it goes out - feel the transport, let yourself transport in that flow and feel your lungs, right next to your heartbeat, fall in love with your rib cage - and touch it, never be afraid to touch your breathing - it is not abstract, it is more real than your body, because it is immerse in the infinite
there is no such thing as separation between normal life and dance, forget all these commandments and just make them your own - life is dance and dance is life - not even sides of the same coin - our life is what we do with it, so learn that sometimes we need to be real slow, then real fast - but the best thing, the thing you should never forget is to always move towards the light, even if you have to go back, to darkness, if you need to relearn what light is.
Finally, repetition is always possible, like redemption, it is the path that leads to light - so read this all over till you know every movement of these words by heart, that is, till you know it in your heart.