For Fritz

the city is in bloom

i see everywhere the violet of

jacarandas jacarandas

like a primitive cry

a lamentation

may has finally arrived

pretty may covers the sidewalk

with violet flowers

that stick to the feet

of careless pedestrians

and my grief is violet

like those sticky flowers

i am no longer able to sing

certain songs without crying

without thinking of you of us

your impish smile

your shitty sayings

where are they? where are you?

when will may go away?

i am sick of this month

that i loved long ago

my memories about you float

like debris in the ocean

shipwrecked without anchor, not

cemented like the bricks

of dates, facts, and other random bullshit

may is in

grief is in flower

is in may is

in violet is in

you

and i want to flee from

this violet month that

this month without you where