press return


I talk to the white woods,

black shadowed end of days,


I do not care anymore if I may make sense


Iíve been confined to a mental ward


now no one asks anything further of me they


look to me similar as if Iím a spent nuclear rod

laying in my mild glow at the bottom of an inside reactor pool


I wonder what do snails think

while they slug on their long slime trail

running like spit


I know I am Ĺ me

the former half is gone

my other half had a name

funny huh?