Events
keep happening
Strange
times, in which,
there
I see,
open windows
Closing
windows right after,
like touching your face
cotton-wrapped
The
realization, that nothing ever changes.
Well
In the
sulky silence of so-called thoughts running the events,
that
just keep on happening.
But the
expectancy of
no
visions, it is basic physics,
for what
it is,
I hear,
perfect teeth blinking
in
unheard calculations of algorithms
Anyway
better
to close the window, I think
in
nipple-long messages, striving lickpots
merging
into the deepest of banalities.
Already
an accomplishment when staying
with one
idea longer than
minutes
really, not a lot of them
just a
few
maybe
two hands full. Maybe not even.
Well
Sleep is
another event
of the
days, always day
that keeps on happening
but less
Long necks growing downward like
navigational
lights
shooting
panels into the sky
strings
of pearls are circling the earth
marching for
better connection
hiding
away the bones of the senseless attempts
for
connection.
Still
Single-handedly, it feels,
holding
vague structures as high as
the
spheres of above-mentioned pearls
building
the biggest death house
a
wondrous place
not
heavier than a strawberry if measured
pressing
brains into diamond-shaped
explanations of
well
nothing
