The buzzing

2025
Oil on linen
28.7 x 23.6 in

The buzzing

In the shadow of the towers, roses bloom every day,
the wallpaper winds its way out through the window.

In my vintage shirt, I overlook the skyscrapers,
the clouds hanging high, I rise above the gall.

A little on edge, above the subways,
the material world, closer to the essential.
Existential distance, to see the nuances again
and give meaning to this imbroglio.

[ And the sky darkens ]

In this deaf, parallel world,
a buzz, a sharp noise:
a daring insect is pollinating my shirt,
frantically rubbing its wings, hoping for treasure.

City flowers
Floral shirt
[ And the cloud quivers ]

The animal flies over the trompe-l’œil paper
which only fools itself,
and tries to sip its bud.
Which remains dry. Poor insect.

City flowers
Flowering paper
[And the cloud moans]

The cracked pane, scarified transparency,
of towers and opaque windows,
so as not to see the low hum.
Drone.
[And the eyes without the sound]

Your privacy screen, broken view,
the crack, did you see it?
Or did it deceive you?

Blooming city
Paper flowers
[And the clouds turned grey]

Broken pane,
your shattered dreams,
my poor bee,
on the towers and windows.

[And the sound without the sight]

Mute drone

And the city darkens
And the sky moans
And the swarm quivers

And the City says:

“BUZZ”

[ Sophie-Gaëlle Martin – 2025 ]