Amount of time

 

When the amount of time

is chewing the gum

the gun is ready to fire

loosing it’s cheeks,

the tung goes crazy and wild.

 

Just easy enough

to raze through the cold

borrowing arctic ice wind

to nourrish her wings.

 

Wings and silver gloves

burning pain in the shoulder

reminds her of earthly existence

hard to realize in a bench

of rainbow colored chalk pieces.

 

No words are worse

than wrong ones

wrong ones find a way to be right

to resonate with lose cheeks

and crazy tungs.

 

Tungs alone can pierce your brain.

Entirely spoken make a space

for air and water

five minutes to open the window.

let’s continue.

 

Berlin, février 2011