poems from the basement-
the past comes back to haunt
(you-me..)
i´ll get my paint box..

a look from a man-something
surreal-says lily thoughtfully..
it is death with a moustache..
it is surety-

it is a void
it has lasted 44 years..
the human visage is capable of
an astonishing variety of emotions
and communication..

what is that?
that is some act of wickedness
and the blue?
waves..
a complete lack of humanity
rides forever outward..
what´s that say?
plain clothes..

that star there is
still hope and the green
is the fresh down on
some innocent morn
we will say single or
return..