i love that word...
luftwaffe...
like faking, or waving,
it just sounds nice...
to say it:
say it and it almost sounds
like khaki, or mustard, or
blitzkreig...
there... i said it...
amphetamines...
what the luftwaffe used
to bomb england....
shitty-scarring...
grand oratory of zeppelins...
mustard brown...
or... how you're so unusual...
how we need you and gravity...
then the pebble, thrown, shoe-wangle!
totters, she-bangs! tanks in moscow,
and that's when i call you my love...
you call it anything else i'm
deaf tone nuke... you ridicule this:
you ridicule the entire world!
all i ever wanted was to love!
all i ever wanted was to love,
how i was robbed... and later mistaken...
thus the undermining, the hammer
and Monte Casino, and Casablanca...
and oh what else i dread...
with the tooth, with the bone,
with grit and with the awaiting nag to be sown...
there comes a time, when we all say die...
while i sing, and they later say rot rather than root...
and then we were bound to synchronise
appualse... to later only clap...
of the dead that speak for the dead:
i walk up to a mirror, and simply say
to the reflection: i don't know you!
my reflection thus replies: neither i, and the world;
cares about you twice;
forgive me making a mention.