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?