I hope this is a ****** joke
That there's no fire only smoke
Coming from guns loaded with ire
But lacking the guts the triggers require

I hope,  Sicko, that you're okay
That this is just another display
Of frustration or anger or sadness
I don't know,  help me,  this is madness!

Crying fire like that on the phone
Yelling help in that convincing tone
Quite an actor,  you are,  what a stunt
You must take me for a stupid ****

Tell me,  why did you send that text
When you know what will happen next
I'll be out of my my wits with fear
That you might this time actually disappear

It's been days now,  and I'm losing hope
I thought jokes were your means to cope
Now I'm not so sure this is fun
If it is, then please stop,  you have won!


Please respond,  please,  I beg you, call
I shall not hold a grudge at all
I just hope that you're safe, okay
Help me chase that paranoia away.

Sometimes we wish
We were Americans

We would have aced the Spelling B's
Been athletes on scholarships
Or won beauty pageants

Our institutions would compete
And we would win prizes
For accomplishments

If we were Americans
We would thrive with competition

We would live the American Dream
And be rich and famous
I just know it

Sometimes we just wish
Our Scandinavian system favoured people with our talents
Our lack of compromise
More

They are objects
Of no importance
In our lives
Often carelessly scattered
Ominous
Over ripe
Crinkled
Left
For somebody else
To pick up
But he takes them
To centre stage
On big canvases
With lots of colours
And no filter
Even sewn up wounds
Shine
Beyond the ordinary
Everyday decadence
They become parts
In our stories
Like memories of past
Or future lives
Like they have not been
Before
He saw them
This way
And let us see them
Too

You insist on not looking right at us
When we stand outside the store
Cross the street as if we are dangerous
We are ghosts sleeping at your door

In this country, they say, we are free
From birth, the system cares
We can be what we want to be
Just as long as we climb the stairs

But some of us didn't climb
And our talents were wasted at school
Maybe sometime you spared us a dime
Because showing off excess is "cool"

Since we do not exist in your mind
You have probably never thought
Of these ghosts and the tragedies behind
You just focus on the things you bought

The sounds
In the public library
With the bass
In her pulse
Made a discreet
Soundtrack
To her first reading
Of O

We board the same
Train
Heading West
On a journey
Through Instagram landscapes
We travel
In open compartments
Where party clad snappers
Make sure the world is
Updated
And that we know
And Facebook knows
Even when they are busted
For free loading
We know
It's their scene
And we're already
Has beens
With our children asleep
Across the aisle
We still travel
In the dark
After they leave
The landscape barely visible
And it is getting late
We are tired
But soon
We will be home
Again

The best of us
won't be
the last of us