all.
be the sky and the stars and the soil
salt and belém pepper fields and the leave that is still
chiselled into the deep end of my one hearing ear,
dear-
est resembling a g-d, suck the ennui away into the vacuum of ether space
don’t take the berries, the leafs with trees and the flowers
smell but grieve
full infinite guesses.
the illicit is tucking a spring roll
into the corners of her mouth
almost like a fucking on freshly mown lawn
i regret leaving portlands perennial rain
impregnating me with the laughter of an
apocalyptical flood, while zapping you-
tube for the vid. of miniscule cooking/
something very tiny very,
i await / that
they dissect & cook a swine head
and i reached a new level.
verdichtet. bis zum punkt. 