There's many and many, and not so far,
  Is willing to dry my tears away;
There's many to tell me what you are,
  And never a lie to all they say.

It's little the good to hide my head,
  It's never the use to bar my door;
There's many as counts the tears I shed,
  There's mourning hearts for my heart is

There's honester eyes than your blue eyes,
  There's better a mile than such as you.
But when did I say that I was wise,
  And when did I hope that you were true?

until dead end
i starred on one ad
in the subway
it speaks: „love is not a an accident“
it was partners-mediation project
printed on the huge red coloured desk

what is else is love if
not an accident?

either it cause lasting elation
or it inflict luv-syndrome-disease

love is her majesty accident!

how ever PR guys are always right
they rent spots on streets, subways and internet
not  for fun!

much honester is just an ad of call girl
she at least doesnt make any brain wash,
but just sales her ***.

I know it, since once I was one.

A Loss of Vision

                      As we grow older we grow honester,
                      that's something.

                             -Yevtushenko, “Zima Junction”

I drove a friend to his ophthalmologist
When I walked him into the office
He could perceive only light and shadow
After we left, some four hours later

He could read the fine print on his McDonald's coffee cup

Miracle. Laser surgery. Miracle.

The McDonald's was our third place to try
For coffee; the first two chains were empty and wrecked
Lake Charles is still a mess after hurricane-curses
This summer, with wreckage everywhere, street signs gone

Houses blasted and empty, shops blasted and empty
Work crews along some streets, silence along others

Dear Leader never bothered to notice
The new Dear Leader won't bother to notice
They send our children overseas to bomb people
And build them new infrastructure and then

Bomb everything again

We are trying to be good Americans
Our golf-course presidents and
Keyboard-kommando generalissimos
And feeble Merovingian Congress

Fist-bump each other

Only my friend has his vision again