dancing happy ghosts
(a reduced happy song) I gave it away, that inside red flesh threw it to demons with horny horns, I knew I had to go, to a place called ‘everything’
Some poems on the road
Categorie: Poetry
Where I’m from
I come from yellow newspapers and old books from Playmobil policeman fighting crime and ghosts stories while praying scared in bed I come from the small garden with a steel
past, present, future
she was out there in dark clouds willing to overcome her greatest fears he’s breathing taking some pills to battle his latest enemy someday, when the reflections in the windows
Correct me
teach me that you can be yours and he and she can be them and theirs because language is bendable there’s more stretch to it than me It’s fresh and