Speeding frames, chocolate wrappers
Satin tracks, nettled trappers
Flying footboard flirting with danger
Twenty knot knot knot winks at the stranger
Meadows green smoke iron dark
Whistling birds at dogs bark
Blitzing low
Met a crow

Then hair, I saw her
The sweet thereafter.

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The war is over
Bodies lie dead
Vultures hover
Soulless, naked

The sun is a little too bare to handle
For there is shame everywhere
And though the moon holds the candle
Nights just don’t care

Not a soul is in pain
For there is pain nowhere
How on earth could there be a pain!
When there isn't a soul anywhere!!

Where are all the souls?
The corpses stare at the heavens high above 
As they lie in their holes,
Their souls look for new bodies destined to love.

Step 1
Pick up a stone
Aim well at the hen
Now the egg lies alone
As the bird flies away in pain

Step 2
Pick up the egg
Put it in your handbag
Let the chick-less hen beg
Let the childless mother nag

Step 3
In the frying pan
Heat the oil a little late
Sprinkle some salt if you can
Crack the egg and fry the omelet

Step 4
Serve the delicious omelet
With some green chili sauce
On a pretty looking glass plate
As another mother awaits a child loss.

As I take a stroll every evening
There in those woods so green
I watch come to me from afar
A yellow tram with a red scar

The tram comes from a future
I conceived in the past
A world with a ****** culture
I once designed to last

Now as I board the tram
I journey to my end
For my future is a sham
My death’s a trend

But the tram changed course
And travels back in time
For my past’s the true source
Of each and every crime

The tram moves fast
And the woods go brown
As I reached my past
I got down with a frown

It took me some time
I righted my past
I cremated my crime
Returned at last

As I strolled the after evening
Within my mind ever so green
I perceived a thought afar
Yellow, but without a scar.

I am sitting on a leather sofa
In front of me a low oval wooden table
On the table a glass
In the glass some whiskey
In the whiskey some sleep
In the sleep an oblivion
In the oblivion some solace
That You could have given me
By not drinking the whiskey
By not getting high
By not abusing me
By not getting killed
By not sending me to jail
By not depressing me
By not making me a drunk
By not making me drink the whiskey
In the glass
On the low oval wooden table
In front of the leather sofa
That I just left
For good
For our home
For another leather sofa
Where we made love the first time
Where we fought the last time
Where your eviscerated body lay that day
Where asleep now lies another:
A helpless little body commemorating our dead love story.

A ball
rolls on the terrace
falls through the air
hits the sidewalk
bounces a few times
rolls on the sidewalk
stops.
The CHILD
dies.