from ROMANIAN PROSE POEMS

AS PARTISAN OF EROTIC ABSOLUTISM. reticent megalomaniac even among divers, and simultaneous messenger of Paul Celan's halo, I evoke the petrified apparitions of the sunk airship only every ten (or more) years, and I go skating only at the latest hour on a lake guarded by the giant forest of brainless members of the world-poets-conspiracy. It's easy to understand that here you cannot get through with the arrows of visible fire. At the border of the world an infinitely large amethyst-curtain hides the existence of that human-shaped vegetation beyond which I, selenic, attempt a dance supposed to make me ecstatic. But so far I have not succeeded, and with my eyes, which have migrated to my temples, I contemplate my profile, waiting for spring.