Poésie de mots inconnus (1949), by Pablo Picasso

It's all right. Every is going fine. Swim until you feel the terror caused by pleasure just to realise you're in the box where you're up to know yourself more than you are used to know yourself.

It's just someone mean

had morphed into the kangaroo

and started to punch you

using it's powerful legs

You hear from him

- you gotta fly away, man, 

you got to do what i say to you, this time it's getting lost by raving without a clue because spellbounding discovery

The purpose is to write off something

and drop it off

To blow the head off

as many times as it's possible -

it coaxes the one who's top you're blowing.

or is it better to tear off all the upper the part of body - all at once 

for sure

So

Let's do it
On the corner 

In a silent way

of the missionary position

of the Da Da Da

Put it on your back

- it'll break up anyway in the near future

There - on your future back - your shadow gonna kick it

First it'll kick the knee

Then it'll punch the stomach

Then you understand - you can't bear it anymore 

but you  can handle it

And drop it

And the thing you've dropped falls and kicks it's chin against the land of the fee.

How pitiful is it?

There was nothing of it - but you thought there was - but there was none

But here come the lack

and because you're used to care - "things have changed" - 

The only thing there was now - was the problem

- the problem coming from the both sides now

only to be shot

and then it jacks off the wounded knee and rubs them against its chest

then it takes it to mouth and holds it there 

so long you can make a statue during the take.

Hair can grow and hair can go during that take

and still - knee in the mouth

"a worried man with a worried mind

no one front, no one behind"

Will you drink from your lap or you're just fibbing?