good evening, mr. jones, said she
i put my arm around her
she turned in to me
i felt her breasts pressing against my chest
so i told her
yes my love
i am a bent corkscrew
but there ´s a good future for us together
Friday, February 25, 2011
8 years old
the sinking of the scharnhorst
a drama at the piano
and in poster paints
red, gray, and black
to say
only at that moment did i live
would be unfair
but not a million miles from the truth
a drama at the piano
and in poster paints
red, gray, and black
to say
only at that moment did i live
would be unfair
but not a million miles from the truth
Friday, January 28, 2011
there are times
there are times
when you feel every inch of your skin
you transfer the fingers
so that your head no longer splays them
register the pressure release of each individual finger
you feel movement in your belly
as the tea you drank negotiates a path through your digestive system
mobilizing enzymes and stomach muscles
you feel the sole of your feet pressing through the sandal onto the floor tiles
right leg crossed over left, the slight knick in the knee
white noise in your ear
you breathe in and out
you assume you will live forever
you know this is illusion
you know the score as regards immortality
your heart of different ages
will not keep beating for ever
these banal moments
intimations of mortality
are maybe all you really have
when you feel every inch of your skin
you transfer the fingers
so that your head no longer splays them
register the pressure release of each individual finger
you feel movement in your belly
as the tea you drank negotiates a path through your digestive system
mobilizing enzymes and stomach muscles
you feel the sole of your feet pressing through the sandal onto the floor tiles
right leg crossed over left, the slight knick in the knee
white noise in your ear
you breathe in and out
you assume you will live forever
you know this is illusion
you know the score as regards immortality
your heart of different ages
will not keep beating for ever
these banal moments
intimations of mortality
are maybe all you really have
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
from over yonder
CLUCK CLUCK CLUCK
TIP TAP
STOMACH TURVY
THOUGHTS
TICK TOCK TICK
TIME
SMELL
BREATHING
DRINKING
CLICK CLACK
DONT STOP
TIP TAP
STOMACH TURVY
THOUGHTS
TICK TOCK TICK
TIME
SMELL
BREATHING
DRINKING
CLICK CLACK
DONT STOP
Monday, January 17, 2011
good advice
running on empty
slurping up the lees
why sneeze ? why do or don´t ?
you make a wish for change, it won´t
less you shit it out
spatter and spit it out
churn it all up
hard liquor, dirty cups, ketchup
scrambled savage orgies
with gorgeous glimpses of frills
fuck thrills -- what a feeling !
your head´s now reeling
as the real
the sexual
intense
contextual
hetero, metro, homo or solo
storms out guns a-blazing
sending you like crazy
hit the ground running son
or you´ll break an ankle
spoil your game
and end up back with the same
old empties
slurping up the lees
why sneeze ? why do or don´t ?
you make a wish for change, it won´t
less you shit it out
spatter and spit it out
churn it all up
hard liquor, dirty cups, ketchup
scrambled savage orgies
with gorgeous glimpses of frills
fuck thrills -- what a feeling !
your head´s now reeling
as the real
the sexual
intense
contextual
hetero, metro, homo or solo
storms out guns a-blazing
sending you like crazy
hit the ground running son
or you´ll break an ankle
spoil your game
and end up back with the same
old empties
talk
fading in and out
thinking
really ?
why ?
should this really be ?
we talk and talk and talk
and talk and talk
in a vain attempt
to order the world
thinking
really ?
why ?
should this really be ?
we talk and talk and talk
and talk and talk
in a vain attempt
to order the world
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