Untitled 2


In a world

Where nothing is found

Where it should be.

Rooted in the flooded silt

Of an overflowing

Indifferent river.

I am here, but that presence

Is absent of soul.

When I tapped Time on the


And asked for spare change,

Time slapped me on the face

And walked away.

Why so harsh?

Because Time does not need me.

But Distance tailgates too closely.

He hides behind my back,

Seeking refuge in my shadow.

I turn to shadow-box Distance-

I need Space.

But even Space is too poor

To offer me a piece of breathe.

Space was robbed by Greed-

That fat man with green eyes,

Who wants to be fatter-

Anorexically fat.

But that leaves me standing

On the corner of my own life

Waiting to hitch a ride to hell-

As I had missed the Devil’s train.

But I had to take a piss at the station-

Does that make it my fault?

I bought a ticket,

Waited patiently.

But then God decided that the

Train to hell was too full,

And put me on stand-by.

So an old man, who saw how

Disappointed I was,

Offered me a joint.

‘Smoke’, she said.

And I did.

But how did I get so high?

Upon this cloud?

Dodging the stars

That rain around me.

Where does that leave me?




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