What can we do now

We can’t sing, so much


The air so polluted

The black spring

coiled, the mattress


Lumpy, the pillows


the soil too

poor, imbecility, infertility

What can we do?




Locked, without options

Is the key chained to the

belt buckle?

We’ve only one key?

Where’s the back-up?

Why no answer?

What’s the excitement?

Where did they all go?


Are we still allowed to dance

on the bones of the old outmoded intelligence?,


make terpsichore,

a lively trot ?


Posted by simonpettet