If We Could Collect All The Missing Hours, Mathias Svalina Remix

It has always felt to me a perfect politician

On the street I saw people in coats
still wearing hoods. The air is not filled
in bird song. I twirled my tongue.
I ignored the question. Today in the shower
I noticed my thighs are getting bigger.
That I need to shave. That I need to
address the idea of happiness.

I was raised in a religious household.
It had its "cultish tendencies."
There was a lot of talk about Jesus.
Ultimate teacher, etc. My father and his boys
were always hawking on the point
where J.C. is asked a question and replies
with a question. Yesterday
while having dinner with a friend
I was informed that no one would
describe me as "happy-go-lucky."

This would be perfect with
an accompaniment of birds.
Perfect with grapefruit juice and clean light.
For a moment I was seduced. There are no birds
in the sky but a plenitude of sun,
which shines on branches which contain buds.
The buds will be leaves. These leaves
will be green. Music will
come. Music will go.