képek, betűk

procession-like, unspeakable, in the air,

if the molecules keep me suspended, stuck

to the brown, disgusting greaseproof paper,

the squares without force,

slippery plant stems, swelling leaves,
matching eyes, the surrounding artificial parks,
swollen words,

like mercy, love, or the hammerhead shark—outdated,

hopes fallen into sleepless calculus,

equations whose result is hysterical laughter,

happy, sad, or looking away,

you still could not decide whether evil exists at all,

or only wounds carried over from childhood;

the smell of sadism radiating from the news,

the happiness of self-deception----------

frightening, sad, or both at once,

it would be good never to think again,

to remove my brain and throw it in the bin,

incoherence and inconsistency,

my happy stammering: they are like light,

like bright birds flying out of my chest,

tears that do not become sobs,

a scream that does not become an echo,

the civilisation I have to live in is collapsing,

but never mind,

the Moon, the Sun, the stars: independent,

this human world now—only a step