Freedom

It’s been a while now since I started

being viciously snapped

out of my daydreams

then looking around myself

and wondering

What am I doing here

am I really in prison?

A strange feeling

that lasts for a moment

when you feel the irrepressible impulse

to put your freedom to use

that very instant

whereas your real situation

strangles you

overwhelms you

with the weight of its evidence

the hand that bore the gift

and your gesture falls

your freedom emigrates

towards other dreams

which begin to acquire

a slightly savage taste

and irredentist shapes

These multiply

whirling so madly

around your failed dream-act

transforming into the eye of a whirlwind

that spins and spins

until you digest it

so as to nourish

all the possibilities

all that can’t be destroyed

what once stirred and nourished

all of humanity’s needs

all that once

broke through the stranglehold