the door to the chancellor

So where is the door to the chancellor’s golden chapel?

The question is, to be in or to be left out of the kingdom.

Don’t come back to my door! How many times have I told you

the supermarket is full of prophets

and aspirants to the seat of God. For the poor aspiring princes

the pot is empty of good reasons beyond the end

of the midnight party.

Tomorrow let’s cook a dish totally new and familiar

dreams don’t have colours if you doubt the reality of life.

Good and Lucifer are the truths of the same changing face

of the crazy healer.

It looks like you still don’t understand

that the land of the golden night is owned by the angel of free trade.

Go to the doors of the temple. You will find merchants

selling white flowers, at first sight

they look beautiful,

but they are plastic, cool if you touch them

and they do not have the perfume of the flowers I love.

They arrive by aeroplane from the other side of the world

globalizing officials from the G20

promote them for the cemeteries,

every day somebody is in need of a celebration day.

If you ask me, every day is the day of the happy zombie

in the philosopher’s bank account.

So where is the invisible door to the private kingdom of Adam?