/the world, and it's gaping mouth, with the voided at hand land that gave birth to eager hands, mastering the collection of wheat... simple man... clinician or whatever... cubicle steward... having sampled the entire truancy for believing the trajectory.

death, the tool, the chisel
of mortality...
delayed for men,
                ever apparent
for women...
                     an image
in a lake,
           or rather the sheen
counter metal
             akin to aluminium...
                 luck...
                                  luck!?
the dead speak of no luck!
            by sunrise i still
will know what humanity
makes a summary of:
           namely switzerland.