a dream of acorns
and a dream of pus
a man walks through your eyelids
the sweltering the smell of garments
a kind memory served
and running for shelter
but you don´t know from what
some wine could offer some solace
the sun is not eternal
tell that to the sunbeams
or track your meanings
from afar
this sentence is radiant
this equation askew
(SGS, 2023)
black holes move and merge
all fickle and longing for
eternal circles at the funeral you grabbed a stance
with both hands
interrupting the standing waves
the black hole merger dance
I tend to plagiarise no-one
But myself
How to build a Pandemonium
For those
Who turnéd around
And applauded themselves
Nothing pulls you apart
Like a Godspeed
(SGS, 2023)
Blood on the negatives. The negatives react. Stone washed dna. You´re crying me up in a corner.
A woman from my past lives in your breath, hold on to nothing, you´re melting together.
It seems very drawn-out.
(2023)
You´re coughing up blood again. The taste of iron and the thickred gluey substance in the symmetry of the floor is not the uncanny. The uncanny is how he calibrates his absence so as to maximize the inconvenience.
It´s not on purpose. It´s just where we ended up.
The earth passes with great purpose, death passes.
Pull this for nothing. For dumb luck.
(May, 2023)
After years spent stumbling
On your own tripwires
Sucking on a lost desire
Dig yourself a hole in the crawling
You can´t calculate your way
Out of the weight of oppressions
The gallows of make-believe
Count it as a strength and a present
Oh, to be cool without prizes
cringe at the playful disdain
of before
another symbol or tripwire
in a pointless war
art is not thinking out loud
is art thinking at all?
art might be the calling
not the act of falling
at the great big neon sign
there´s a subtle line
between the dancing
and the grime
(SGS, 2023)
got my writer´s license
selling commas down the river
avoiding luck for decades
makes you careful around
periods
In the trenches
I´m not a flower
Hunched behind the
Torched and the homeless
A glowstick posing as
A city of hope
A rewardless journey
They said
Endurance handed
Like a trophy
Nothing is for granted
Moving forward
another day at the society fair
you don´t notice us crawling there
a shadow at the supermarket
a tiny smidge on the labour market
cockroaches
turn your head lest we might exist
enjoy your bed and your daily bliss
relieved of their sympathies
covered in reveries
deaf to lame reproaches
cockroaches
(SGS, 2023)
sgehlert 