confrontation, July 24, 2018, 16:46:28 – 16:47:17

hammer on copper
can i ask not to be quoted on something i’ve said?
mantra with variations resounds from the screens.
alone at your post on the outskirts of yourself.
silence, what’s that?
we don’t understand ducks.
no station, no rest, great haste, bike race.
when the rain drowns out conversation.
no sign that anyone’s here.

oblivion, July 24, 2018, 15:36:10 – 15:38:12

decycling stops this and that.
the years leave a thin film of rime.
oh, these word-whores’ orders are rather vague.
let the mind wander and see if it boomerangs.
oh, diktonius lopped love so as to grow.
oh, it must be okay to have a go.
there are no such things as independent souls.
the fog won’t stop screwing me up.

confrontation, July 24, 2018, 15:00:44 – 15:01:57

oh, it makes no sense, say the young, while the world shrinks.
oh, to sack the chef and the waiter and find a nice place!
only boring people have fun.
children sing in snow caves. niigata prefecture. honshu. japan. 1956.
dream falsely of life and die in confusion.
oh, to roll up one’s arms and get stuck in.oh, to roll up one’s arms and get stuck in.

confrontation, July 24, 2018, 14:14:20 – 14:15:42

well, shall we go out?
beg for help, beg for mercy, beg for the same again.beg for help, beg for mercy, beg for the same again.
running like sand, time, water through the fingers.
one can be moved to tears by one’s own thoughts.
make the nectar of the gods from liquid that won’t run.
are you?
no one saw him follow one saw him follow me.

oblivion, July 24, 2018, 13:31:37 – 13:33:31

the morning is plain and simple, almost normal global.
when the rain drowns out conversation.
the magpie torments the cat for fun.
the well chuckles at a good story.
someplace a girl has a pillow over her head.
in the unicorn’s corner, polar bear, cod and giant panda.
no rumbling in the tummy and biding time.
in the wind, powerless in the face of words.

confrontation, July 24, 2018, 10:23:31 – 10:27:54

leave me be.
to be chased by wild boar on a souped-up moped.
one day to walk on the wind without crutches.
one day more, mum, one day more, dad.
is forgetting a longing to start afresh.
are you agin, then take your poem and go.
in the wind, powerless in the face of words.
in the desert under the roof of the country.
no station, no rest.