Dry Dream

A dream of
disturbing sense:
The girl I just made love
to doesn’t have to exist at all.
I gradually realized waking up.
She was naked and had no face,
her long hair flows dark to the feet.
We were in a mini pool made of wood.
I was on top of her, and she under.
My hands between her arms,
And my knees leg-stuck.
Supposed to orgasm,
But I got confused:
Who was the girl,
And who was I?
Was she me?
And I her?

The Young Girl Full of Forbidden Energy

The Young Girl Full of Forbidden Energy
by Fanz Hugo

The young girl full of
forbidden energy
worships everything
and values nothing.

The young girl full of
overearning prestige
walks in beauty like
the Swedish meat balls.

The young girl full of
old souls has to kill in
cold blood the man who
served her tea colder.

The young girl full of
her younger selves is too
lame to reschedule
her dental appointment.

The young girl, oh yes,
that young girl in her
late eighties, can mourn
her lovers no more.


Monologue from a Dream on May 1st, 2011

Monologue from a Dream on May 1st, 2011
by Fanz Hugo

“People are here for close encounters, not relationships! This is a different world to them! They are here to escape the boring life they wouldn’t lose, to have their wildest desires fulfilled, to take advantage of young girls just like you! They dont’t care if you are good or bad. Don’t you? What are you looking for here? Who do you think they are?”

Her father had already come and was cutting through the crowd towards her.

And she kept her silence with angry little eyes.

“Are you listening?”


Her Older Self Wouldn’t Recognize Her Twisted Face

Her Older Self Wouldn’t Recognize Her Twisted Face
by Fanz Hugo

Her older self
wouldn’t recognize
her twisted face.
It’s a maze.

She’s running,
on bare legs,
towards a
little boy-

her brother.
and delight,
all at once.

Her elder
sister follows,
too bored to
care. She knows.

She won’t
her face twisted
from hunger.


Young Legs in Spring

Young Legs in Spring
by Fanz Hugo

It’s morning again,
but morning is commuting.
Young legs of schoolgirls
in uniform fill the train.

An occasional teenager
sits and nudges her fingers,
with her annoyed father
standing by in silence.

White legs, dark legs,
socks and playful skirts.
All are impatient,
especially in the morning.

Young legs are slim and fast,
roaming the escalator,
up to the station exit.
They never stop stretching.

For once, she stands still,
hands down helping
her skirt fight the wind outside,
waiting for her pals to come.

Her future rivals. Or lovers.
Who knows. It’s up to her.
Two young legs will
walk elegance in spring.