Jeux sans frontières

Passing the Frontier:

The yellow line could be seen for as long a time

As the highway desired

And if you fell asleep at the wheel

It fulgurated in the dozing soul

Like a brutal revelation

That allows you not to feel

In the dream’s snapshot

Your brain getting smashed

Against the milestone or the windshield   

 

It was an ideal line

Crowned with horizontal blue

That unwound day after day

Like a clothesline

Flags and scalps and washed-out roses

Our countries our combats our wars

Mingling lassitude with involuntary starts

A gymnastic in disorder

That sickened our hearts

Pierre Martory.