algorhythmically
determined
creatively
industrial
authentically
alternative
tenant
farmers
algorhythmically
determined
creatively
industrial
authentically
alternative
tenant
farmers
algorhythmically
determined
creatively
industrial
authentically
alternative
tenant
farmers
algorhythmically
determined
creatively
industrial
authentically
alternative
tenant
farmers
algorhythmically
determined
creatively
industrial
authentically
alternative
tenant
farmers
Félicia Atkinson

Félicia Atkinson

FELICIA
ATKINSON

WRITES , SOMETIME

A
N
I
M
A
L
S SOME TIMES DRAWS
AUDIO BOOK

SOMETIMES SINGS HAND IN HAND

SOMETIMES FOLDS

THE ONLY LUGGAGE OF THE LONELY WANDERER

PLANTS , STICK OR STONES

VISNAGA
SOME TIMES SOME WAR SOME TIMES OTHER
TIMES
SOME TIMES SOME MILK SOME TIMES OTHER
TIMES
SOME TIMES SOME KEYS SOME TIMES OTHER
MILK
SOME OTHER SOME DEATH SOME TIMES SOME
TIMES
SOME TIMES SOME DOOR SOME TIMES OTHER
KEYS
SOME TIMES SOME FEAR SOME OTHER SOME
TIMES
SOME TIMES SOME LOVE SOME TIMES OTHER
WAR
SOME OTHER SOME SHADE SOME TIMES SOME
TIMES
SOME TIMES SOME GRACE SOME TIMES OTHER
DOOR
YOU
OR (AND)
ME
OR (AND)
A TREE
SOME PETALS SOME OTHER
SOME TIMES SOME COLD
WHAT BOOK?
HER VOICE
UNFOLDS
PAGE AFTER
PAGE
MEANWHILE,
ANGER
N
G
E
R
F
OR E
A R
VANISHED
BY
( OH, DID YOU, DID YOU HEAR IT?)
A RAY OF LIGHT
A RAY OF LIGHT A RAY OF LIGHT
A RAY OF LIGHT A RAY OF LIGHT
A RAY OF LUMINOUS A RAY
OF
LUMINOUS
SOLID LOVE
NOT BLUE, A HAZE,
A CONCILIATION
A BRILLANT MAN
A QUIET HORSE
FLUTES IN REPETITION
I SEND SOME
(CLASSICAL)
INDIAN MUSIC IN MY EARS
I WRITE
SMALL
SO NO ONE CAN READ IT FROM THE TRAIN WHERE
I AM SITTING (MOST OF MY WEEKS)
NO TABLE
LAPTOP ON THE LAP
(THE PERSON ON THE LEFT IS ALWAYS TAKING THE ARMCHAIR)
TOP
THE COFFEE IS GONE
AND THE MUSIC
INSIDE MY BODY
SOMEHOW

:
I’M AN OLD SONG
A SMILING ONE
AND
TIME
AND I
WHEN AND WHILE I AND EMILY
TIME
AND
I WHEN AND EMILY
WHILE I OR EMILY
I READ EMILY DICKINSON
I AM READING EMILY DICKINSON
I AM NOT ONLY READING EMILY DICKINSON
I DON’T KNOW ALL OF EMILY DICKINSON
I JUST LIKE TO OFTEN READ EMILY DICKINSON
IT HAPPENS THAT I READ EMILY DICKINSON
I DON’T READ THAT MUCH EMILY DICKINSON
IT HAPPENS THAT I AM FOND OF EMILY DICKINSON
LIKE EVERYBODY, I ENJOY EMILY DICKINSON
EMILY DICKINSON MAKES ME HAPPY
IT’S A
TASTE
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
EMILY
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
TASTES
HAVE TASTES ANY INFLUENCE ON
THE MOOD?
WHAT
IS
TASTE?
SHOULD I READ EMMANUEL KANT AGAIN?
SHOULD I LISTEN MORE TO VIVALDI?
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
I’VE BEEN MORE INTO
TV SERIES, INGEBORG BACHMANN AND
PUMPKINS
LATELY THOUGH
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
BEING SHY WHEN TIMES REQUEST SMALL SMART TALKS
MAKES ME SPEAK TOO
MUCH
PLUMS
WISHES
MONEY
HONEY
LOONEY
AND FEATHERS
I FORGET DATES AND NAMES SO EASILY I ALWAYS FOCUS
ON
HAIR, EYES AND COLORS
…..
OF
AS ….
MUCH
AS ….
IN THE MIDDLE OF
….
OH AND THERE WAS ALSO
THE
LAKE
THE AMBIGUOUS LAKE,
BLUE BEAUTIFUL AND SURROUNDED BY STUPID CROWDS
T H E L A K E
BUT THE LAKE, THE LAKE ITSELF WAS SUCH A BEAUTY
T H E L A K E
T H E L A K E
T H E L A K E
T H E L A K E
STILL AND GREY
WHEN THE
RAIN
WAS SHIVERING AND
STILL AND BLUE,
LIKE NOTHING ELSE, IN THE SUN,
A PURE STRANGER IN THE DAY
T H E L A K E
FACING IN SILENCE THE CROWD, IT SEEMED
IT WAS WAITING FOR THEM TO
BURN, TO VANISH,
IMMERSE, IN CRYPTIC MATHEMATICS OF TIME,
T H E L A K E
T H E L A K E
NEXT TO OTHER
LAKES, CIRCLED WITH MANSIONS
YOU ARROGANT GOLDEN TEETH MONSTERS
T H E L A K E
POPPING UP IN THE VALLEY
AT ONE SERPENTINE SEGMENT OF THE ROAD,
THAT WAS T H E L A K E ,
AFTER
THE
WATERFALL
AND
WE
WOULD
SAY:
THIS
IS
SO
BEAUTIFUL
.
T H E
L A K E T H E
L A K E
WE WOULD NOT USE
METAPHORS
OR
COMPLICATED WORDS:
IT WAS A
SIMPLE, AN
ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL,
THING,
TO DRIVE BY EVERY DAY
AND EVERY OTHER NIGHT
BY
THAT
LAKE,
ARTIFICIAL OR NOT,
KNOWING
ALSO
MAYBE
ALREADY
THAT WE WOULDN’T STAY THERE FOR A VERY
LONG TIME.
NOW
THAT I TAKE A FEW TRAINS EVERY WEEK,
THIS TRAIN RIGHT NOW,
IN THAT TRAIN HERE
THAT ONE THAT WILL TAKE ME CLOSE TO A SLEEPING VOLCANO AND A
BUNCH OF FRIENDS
IN THIS TRAIN,
LISTENING TO « DO YOU KNOW HOW TO WALTZ » BY THE AMERICAN
BAND CALLED
LOW,
I MISS YOU, BECAUSE
I ALWAYS
DO
WHERE WE ARE NOT TOGETHER, MAKING THE TWO OF US GATHERED LIKE
T H E L A K E
YOU ARE, YES YOU ARE A PART OF
WHAT IS
STANDS FOR
T H E (MY) (OUR)
CONSTANT
EVER BEING
SILENT OR SPEAKING
L A K E
IN
THE
MEANTIME,
WHAT ABOUT SLEEPING VOLCANOS?
SO
FRUSTRATING,
NOT TO BE ABLE TO SEE THE LANDSCAPE THROUGH THE TRAIN WINDOWS,
BUT
ONLY REFLECTION IN OCRE ELECTRIC LIGHT
NIGHT
DISRUPTED
THIS NIGHT
SEEMS ALL OF A SUDDEN, STRANGELY
THEREFORE I
DRINK WATER,
SOME FRESH TASTE
RESEARCH AGAINST THE ALOOF AND STUFFY AIR OF THE WAGON.
OH
WITHIN THIS FORCED LIGHT,
I WONDER THE AGE OF THE SELF?
MAY I?
IMPOSSIBLE
TO
TRACE
IF
I
FEEL
OLD
OR
YOUNG,
MAY I?
AM I?
OH, I THINK THAT
I AM
A VIBRATION
IN A BODY
IN A TRAIN
IN A LANDSCAPE
IN THE NIGHT.
I