Waiving happiness

and suffering for the truth:


a better country.

I'm walking my dog

in the sound of the silence --


with my earplugs in.

Corpses in the street

look like humans, but fake ones --


more like broken dolls.

Human babies are

infected from birth, with the --


story parasite.

It's a merry day,

we dance on the earth *****:


feet full of music.

Within every

story new stories, that's how --


the universe works.

Sneaking silently,

as part of a secret plan --


and it will end well.

The many years lived

make me crooked, I subside --


sink into my roots.

We only 'conquer'

our own place in the world by --


living together.

I'm dreaming my life

in a parallel world, it's --


a roller-coaster.

The neighbours have left,

their garden is drying out --


now I water it.

My foe shows no light,

but I do sense some little --


dark within myself.

She never shuts up,

in my sleep she keeps talking:


Radio Married.

He is also there,

listlessly looking away --


we mumble hello.

Girls giggle and they

keep shifting the position --


of their bulging calves.

The way he behaves,

imitating me, never --


I would act like that!

He looks around, so

he isn't dangerous, he dares --


not do anything.

They're laughing at me,

it just happens, it really --


really can't be true.

Dilated pupils

in a swollen, white face, that's --


what sadness looks like.

Characteristic

of old people's buildings is --


their name: Home of Loss.

The shadows are long,

I'm waiting, it's getting dark --


it's coming closer.

A new appointment,

and today my first grey hair:


what many changes!

The lunar orbit,

the decline of my body:


it all goes slowly.

Something shiny there,

I stop and kick it away --


pff, just a dead star.

The fairy tales are

over, since then they just tell --


how it really is.

The feeling you are

being used is not as bad --


as being unused.

The storm sweeps away

everything, there is nothing --


just a shoreless sea.

There is a shot hole

in the photo on the hearts --


of fallen soldiers.

Conforming myself,

keeping my mouth shut: my fear --


won't protect me though.

Making people laugh

is risky, because they will --


force you to do it.

Will I then remain

a child, showing my parents --


my abilities?

The single greatest

economic power is --


bribeandcorruption.

The gold is shining

more and more, and so brightly --


that it catches fire.

The grand parade is

over, and never over:


unforgettable.

Stamps on the pages

of the letter to my dad:


Not To Be Censored.

At the bench, just before
we get there, he reaches
for the ground

and sits down
but he doesn't seem to know how
he doesn't seem to be well, I wait

A municipal man comes
to see and he calls for help, sirens
My companion is carefully laid down

A woman presses her arms
around me and holds me
caressing me

Others are watching
tirelessly his chest rises
after every push, another push

I'm still not allowed
to go to him, I'm waiting
it can't be right

that he stays down
that he is not on the bench
that he doesn't talk to me

Waiting is living

half, putting deeds off, looking --


in front of oneself.

The jinns: a cloud cuts

through the moon and through the eye --


that looks at the moon.

Better not to count

on society or God --


Provide for supplies.

Then, Adam and Eve

invented god and soon he --


was superior.

I never dare to

speak to them, not one of them --


does even see me.

Behind her: a man,

his head perched on her shoulder --


like a frightful hawk.

So strange, wealth offers

everything to be happy --


and yet it doesn't work.

Gee, where exactly

are the landmines that I placed --


the lies and the truths?

Owners own the land,

but the gardens will belong --


to the gardeners.

The tempest tears roofs

away from attic secrets --


devours people's pasts.

A tangled patchwork,

bits of all kinds of people --


that's how Mumbai was.

Might fidelity

be: pretending love, hoping --


it will get better?

My kisses ask you:

please love me, I do love you --


because I kiss you.

Politics revolves

around trying to control --


our powerlessness.