Dag: 23. juli 2018

all you ever write about is dumb frogs.
drink a black eye.drink a black eye.
finally, moderately, truly without u.
 
pretty good is not good enough.
instagirls posing as the seven senses.
if only we became what we love.
 
you love four words. time to update.you love four words. time to update.
kisses bewingéd with hermés’s shoes.

make the image of a god from wood that won’t rot.make the image of a god from wood that won’t rot.
make the fear of god from mirrors and rope.
rilke thought dragons were princesses, not the other way roundrilke thought dragons were princesses, not the other way round
 
in this country people are too rich for change.
to reveal is to conceal, look around you.

running like sand, time, water through the fingers.
many people never know love.
the crane lifts the field after the rain like a crane.
 
the sun throws up the day.
once war came its beginnings were irrelevant.
life begins.
 
there are plums, boxed ears, dejection, the morning after as well.
listen to your bitterness, the roots.

even works of fiction can prove profitable.
living took just about all of my strength.
individuals avoid the vacuum cleaner of coherence.
 
let the dogs slowly maul the wild boar to death.
nothing to look forward to.
a rampant idiocy wreaks havoc.
 
unwinds itself, ariadne fashion, for and to whom?
aw, don’t wrap your thoughts around me.

according to some algorithms you don’t understand; loving.according to some algorithms you don’t understand; loving.
endangered species are animals of production.
everything you’ll actually never experience again in a cloud.
 
an owl sat on the rhino head in a tarn.
skullcap = icecap.
an air conditioner for the air’s sake.
 
it opens under our feet, nature loves to hide.

well, shall we go out?
oh, your nearest and dearest, one and only, be your ear and hand.
individuals avoid the vacuum cleaner of coherence.
 
emotion seeping through the skin of the face.
the cranes cover the earth’s crust, shy satellites.the cranes cover the earth’s crust, shy satellites.
the thoughts unravel and fray at the edges.
 
pretty good is not good enough.

we don’t understand ducks.
when you came you knew nothing.when you came you knew nothing.
every restriction is sacrosanct.
 
the word is a stay of death.
small communities are a start.
whether one must be poor to be rich.
 
and like that, you know?
oh, your own unique character is sacred.
so much trouble, and so text, and so singing.