he just blurted out some things of course that
Scrag is alive and must be in a room somewhere. no one cherishes
being on vacation eternally, They
just stay for a while
so that they cannot be
caught

"he looked different"
doubter "new suit or new
curtains maybe"

some time ago
do you remember
well, being red just like in the Mystery
i bet you, right now he can't find Scrag
within. he buried Scrag in his garden and now he strolls about

in the middle of the road
to go back and be able to see what (s)he is doing
new adventures

very carefully two young people
by accident
the owner outside her door of Plants
eating, as promised

unfamiliar through the same Fence
just a moment in Their garden
with His bed of roses in her mind
that wasn't great. that was very sad.

past, though i would try again
i believe
he's probably too careful for that
At that time we had reached the fence
even more careful
that the
man nor syringe nor poison remained. at the time he was
tying roses he felt cheered on

"please come back"

a lack of tools
on a difficult occasion in his occupation

"excuse me"
excuse me for interrupting you
where the older one went

he Is

courage sinks in great confusion; on the
end of the road only panting disciples
might be better to be afraid of him
walking in a thoughtless maze
is great when you're afraid
it is easier to lose yourself

"after all of this, do you really think Scrag is on vacation"
of course not, he is on Deep Contempt

Scrag, pensive
turned questions around
after all it would have been stupid
on occasion not to accept
running towards the future; catching with a
stern frown i will
begin. i will look very innocent
i will look
how they always do. only the brightest one looks innocent
do you remember the man in the Mystery
he couldn't stop himself from looking at his bed of roses
over and over again; there he buried his victim, he
Had to look at it. they noticed that

"i don't believe you should go
back it seems rather dangerous"
he could still keep his poison
close to him imagine
how dumb it would be to go back
that he is a killer

seriously
i don't believe people like him will **** twice
in a row. you can **** without
being clever but you cannot **** everyone
who passes by
What i mean is that almost everyone who meets someone new dies

cut open
dead
no mask, i have gotten a little reckless

And then he found his Plan that
poison was
gardening wanted
to run away fast, remained dead and
buried

"done?" question of red
hoarse

"oh, there are so many ways you have"
careless also
buried i think that is how most people
end up

a sudden Plan -of course
and the interest
so he could
dig then bury then
get and then dig up
what he hid there. for weeks he had been
digging
he is really very clever i would never
weeks beforehand no
i would
and i tried to
hide him somewhere
a very clever man

taken
by his lips; inanimate; rather than
clinging on to the criminal
of his kind
"i wonder what he would say if you asked him"

lowered, the whole smelled of desolate
loneliness. in dreams, for a while, they kept
hanging over the fence, but it's less fun to hang
over it when there's no one to send you away
anymore. So i keep on
walking

"i wonder where he went" red being
Meditative
of course he killed of course he poisoned and beat
and shot

"poor old Scrag"

he had no trouble catching her because
she couldn't run away
"but then why did Scrag ****** her"

"you think there is only one single reason to
****** someone" red being Stirred
if you had read all those books
mixture of red and I, you would know there are a
myriad of reasons to ****. i bet you Scrag
hid himself
the other found him
that
dreadful sound
kept him from sleeping: it made a hole in
Scrag

"why not?" a murderer must ****
someone, otherwise he wouldn't be a murderer
there are those who are crazy like you or anyone
crazy about collecting. there might
be a good reason for it though. he might
know that one of us
knows
nothing

because we all
drowned when our ship sank
that's how it went with the Mystery
not one of us has a
shipwreck to show
for everything i say

tired

there is not at all
pressure to tell us
wat happened
tonight i'll ask if maybe she
drowned

and probably they will say
they've forgotten about him long ago but i bet one of you
wanted to ****** him

unmentionable
don't even bother
for some time there was no reason to be suspicious
maybe it wouldn't even have come up, but then
on a certain day they found the two
completely empty

then there came a long period of passion
enticing stories
the books were given away and
the interest slowly
melted too, just like the owner dreamt
every day
about the two of them, they would hang over the fence
until he sent them away. after that they left

it is possible that the owner in the
past had had much to do with
age and nature. the moment they were hanging over the fence
she would wave fiercely and imminently with the
syringe. at once
these events kept the interest
alive
"i would want to buy everything
he puts his syringe in"

killer? he looks exactly like those kind of people, who
spray venom on others
do you remember the man in the
Mystery, whose rake
was poisoned? i think he is exactly someone like that
it's probably best we ran away so much. i bet you
if we hadn't
we wouldn't be alive right now

if anyone tries to shoot me i will shoot
first
"you are very clever, are you not?" red being Sarcasm
it's simple: i may
not be very clever and so on
i'm not as dumb as they say in the reports
above all i am clever about discovering

"well, name us then"
red
if you would be so kind to unmask
if you had the chance you would find a skeleton by chance
very soon, not clear who
"i have so many
ways to **** people and i
also know which kind of people do it"
"get out" that was all Red

by that time we had already reached the old shed where people
often meet and play their games

the kind of red that really did it
is guilty it is me that by chance
did it

could've been some kind of vainglory. in the end we played the game
till we had to go to bed

after reading all those books i believe i
i would find out pretty soon
there always is that one person and you think that
he would never be able to do it
it would be stupid to read
all those books, they would soon enough

be too big

it is much more fun to be the man
that discovers everything
that is the one i want to be. i keep on reading
until i am too big and i bet you there will be
not a single way then to unmask
people
and after i die i will be famous and the people
will put up a statue for me

"i don't think they will" red being Abetment
"you will probably be murdered
before you even discover anything"

"and then it will be us who will be famous"
is that what you really think, offended

i would leave me
alone and not worry too much about finding
out. by the way, i will not be
killed. i would always have a bottle with me
i would drink
a little bit after all

slowly
bending over again
the owner had just processed
all of that bending (one hinge was already
broken) after that came less words
he filled his syringe with water
pointed this
upwards hurried

in that way you can drown everyone
in their mouths, so that they cannot
breathe and if you cannot breathe you die
no one can live without
though sometimes
they deserve to live without

that
Red is sad and stupid
and probably someone is thinking, obviously thinking
about an ordinary guy that came by
and gave a clue, the way it happens in all these books

do you remember the Mystery
that a man discovered that
he was a dagger and
that he killed the people around him. I think he was well educated
i would have never come up with the idea
of course, now i would: right now
the first thing i look at is the tip of a man's umbrella

then i know all kinds of clever ways

the old man only just moved in
his name
Scrag, and everyone making an effort
to remember new humans
the humans named themselves
after their appearance or character

the owner in trouble because the man's name
was longer than usual and looked kind of
wrinkly he had dark glasses
by the fence and his job was to
produce a Great Curiosity
for everyday things

for anyone that even remotely feels anything it would have been
clear that the owner was in trouble if interest and
activity collided in
his head; heated even then
there was more than a
look at last
he stood up after bowing down and looked, said

"nothing" being all happy
"then why?"
"to look at you"

still happy, but without
moving
"go away! do you hear me? go
away"

And there is no one to discover them.
if i simply existed i would
fit nowhere, in all the books I
have read
they just don't know what to do
tell me, do you remember the Mystery
of rummaging through the room
and not even finding
the person
that opened it

well, that just shows, look what
i actually mean is that people are too careful
with all kinds of things
but when it comes down to it: dissolving
or unmasking, a decision cannot be found. these
are regular people, like you and me that try to pick up
their common sense

some just cannot see it because they are too dumbfounded
and that is that
however interested you may be
there is nothing you can do to set yourself in motion

at that time two small
names
both were stirring in me

"oh, that's nice" that works better for
you because if you were the first to know
you probably don't know much anymore and now that i am after you
i can probably remember it more clearly than
you
"oh, probably not. who was it then that murdered who?"

a poisoned pen
i remember a myriad of things
even more
the Mystery
"me too"
the mystery of the Lonely
"me too" and the Mystery
"me too" and the Mystery
me too

all those books and does
anyone ever die of a natural cause
they don't there is that mysterious
tone and at least one hundred
thousand murders you see
you can only discover
or rather cut open you simply do not have
the time then everyone might die
in cutting open you discover
a myriad of things

victims, have you ever
thought about that. Everywhere there are people

it was partly due to a period of rainy
weather and partly due to a sudden longing for
the older one
of those two
gripped by that sudden longing
the houses
were stuffed
no period of rain
could have been read

on the first beautiful day
together and comfortable
done
convinced, happy if he knew
all that i read truly
that i still have to read more
all those wet days he would really be happy
if he knew

the mystery of a blue
voice raised
i feel the same, rational
altogether too blustering
fór you because
i was wearing it

na na no
i am NOT walking through emotions
i am simply STROLLING
LIGHTLY treading this path
feet muddy little bit ******

there is this mountain
HUGE pile of these strange feelings
how am i
how am i miles away all suddenly all now?

i am combustible
i am HIGHLY flammable
do not light me
do NOT light me
i will make you SICK

paint the walls
paint the walls
paint the walls
i stand my back against
paint the walls

i point
i move
this is persevering in spite of absurdity
pointing
i move to another wall

this is a painting for some meaning some feeling
fell against a wall
back against a wall

i am a human machine
paint the walls
let me not hear the white walls no more
i am a human machine