Imagination is No Crime
Once upon a time
about 12 years ago
on the Therwil-Basel train line
you looked upon a great, wonderful meadow
where butterflies sailed
but all of them failed:
the brimstone, the swallowtail
today, you see them no more
at the side of the rail
industry and concrete came crushed everything
no more I see the colors of the butterfly-wing
now I spray my fantasies: graffiti
but what I do is a crime
juvenile court, social work and fine
so when you read this rhyme,
feel it: imagination is no crime
(am I fighting in vain?)
my name is blame.
(© Roger Le Marié)
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