there’s no comfort elsewhere
certain words creating melodies creating harmony
a lot of undefinable river weed (what’s that?)
2,5 million clouds passing by with no car no noise
4 million poems concerning real meaningful content in musically wrapped metaphors with no emphasis and a lot of scattered Sap Ph O
dentists pronouncing terrible future happenings
lists in alphabetical order of books one should read before death strikes the hour
goddess-like ladies gossiping in line and comparing volumes and inner space
question marks where it should be full stops or exclamation marks or sheer exclamation
unreliable fishes
the bubbling of birth
poetry nothing but poetry
non-existing colors exterminated but saved nonetheless
itch in my eyes concerning nobody in particular
hatred of any ideology
at swim-two-birds
crime as creamy as crimson
every army is deemed to fail
there’s only this and here and now
space is the female body
striking encounters of the third kind
useless lists
sudden stone buddha’s among the weeds
studio clouds overhead and underneath, all on canvas or up there
hangmen in the dark
all shades of green and green like green from green as green as green can be
green
image by Max Ernst, La femme 100 têtes
some chickens survived, but not for long
watching without thinking
thinking without watching
several species of man-made creatures
the way the moon reappears suddenly in due time as she used to do
all the tired horses
seven dead cars and not even oldtimers
she came in through the bathroom window
examining windfall and haze
you try the rope and it holds
drink your yoghurt and stay firm
religion is the way of escaping reality and denying bodily facts
ignore this
level with the one you’re with
it’s certainly a nice running machine
can i have your picture naked?
some edifices don’t work properly, never will
i’m a monk and stay that way
nevertheless the stars, the countless stars
my kitchen is famous
if you tell me a lie, tell me a black lie, don’t tell me a white lie
do you like this garden?
stealth is a certain curtain
i don’t recognize this schoolyard anymore
and the wind cries mary
