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trip with me
can’t stand a chance
turn on the post
only sane man
I am the action, you see

moonlit nights
that rip your heart out and eat it
stories flare in the west
in a ruined war warehouse

roof of tinfoil
tarnished mirror
I return a cigarette
too absent neighbors

see the reflection
despair and death of myself
I’m immune against fear
got a rugged face
need the practice of cruelty and a shave

addicted sleep
in heavenly purple color
a smooth yellow face
lips a blue hypersuspicion

distant mumble
unrecognizable on hearing it again
a voice
the moon shines
I have no native language

thunder not
I’m lost
it’s a friday night
streetlife of a place forgotten
clowds men in the world

feel the earth move
sleep in attempted god-head
wake to the intervened and utterly failed heavenly peace

outside a misty landscape
fog seeps
pattern of rain
you feel the rainfall
and sorrow in the air

days go
they can’t stay
better stick to your dreams
’cause there’s poor human hearts
pounding everywhere

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