Hear they send you white foam to cover up
Or twigs from the tree they cut down
Fishes from designer aquariums where swiftly
life halts and hiccups
I have never seen a them in the eyes, for the pavements blur my footsteps
and they surround me with what night fails to discern
hear you are proud, hear you are happy
Blessed must be
the lonliest healthy tree in the expanse
of tiring desert while I tear myself from the colours of the
posters and burn them and eat them
and when will I ever find the most acerbic word in the cosmos?
No one promises nothing, until you lose hold of your bowels and die all over your manuscripts and mayhem. 
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