STATEMENT OF FACT

a cyclist swerves
pig´s head balanced between the handle bars
in my ear music compositions
that i cannot hear
my bits do not fit together
it was between night and the morning
in the grey hours
colour seeping in ever so slowly
i repeat
my bits do not fit together
there is a waterwheel in cordoba
squeaking and sloshing
my various IDs
floating like embryos pickled in formaldehyde
there are expanses of wheat
screams, lists, currencies
but please don´t listen
nor worry your sweet head
concerning the tentative articulations of a small boy
shouts, brine, juxtaposition
failed states, laughter, drambuie
a day late
a dollar short
my bits don´t fit together

a word in your ear

organise your desk
correct positioning of keyboard, mouse, paper
saves time and nerves
a chair with wheels
and everything in its place

set up the naming conventions, 
organise the folder structure, the back-ups,
check disc status regularly

and the heart ?
your heart of different ages
the heart you have from your mother
open your heart !

Q & A

what is the texture of your life right now ?

lonesome piano and chocolate

what are you hiding ?

my sexuality rumbling, my tears welling,  despair
the realisation
bearing down on me like a tanker
of my flaws and failures
hate and self-hate scratching on the door

i see the fissure in your face
it´s time to explode !

WHEN

when you are ninety-one
events, memories, images floating through your consciousness
and i am worm food
you will remember my embrace
and probably think
stupid man
silly boy
but the kisses were sweet

One God

truck driver
in the cab
rainy night
swish
so many miles
so many miles
turns off the music player
there is but one god
and that is yourself
to save you
or damn you

The Service Economy

cage of light bright metal
warm smell of straw and urine
a rat presses a lever with its snout
receives yet another shot of dopamine
its eyes dull
as if that were it
presses the lever again
again
again
an automatic counter
plastic parts and electronic components
registers each event
relaying information in a real-time printout
uploading a graph to a science website
inside is outside
as  if it were that

the lab technician
white coat with the firms logo
a decent roller pen
 a discreet piercing twixt mouth and chin
is thinking of relationships, being authentic, vacations

as if it were that

VAN GOGH

you say
that artist didn´t die
he lives on, his name known the world over
one thing though:
of this he knows nothing
he himself does not live on
just his legacy
and for him
it´s all been packed away
rolled up, string around it, and packed away
however hard this is to understand
in this maelstrom of shitwords
i die

i die and know nothing
of what happens to the memories i leave behind