LexicaL Field Poems

I love it when the doesn't blow too fast.
I hate it. When the wind rushes at a haste.
When the wind winds out of control,
The dots under its hand are knocked around.
...

In crowded rooms, of the East
Women lie awake.
Beaten and beaten, death from the stake.
So their voices we cannot hear,
...

That's the third thud tonight
We're not moved by it
This water induced bout
Makes for beautiful child tears.
...

A man galloped to the gallows
Happy in foot
You drink every night
But i must fight.
...

Arbeit Macht Frei
We're coming alive
We're in the air.
...

Over invisible atoms I can have
the world on my lips.
Yet my tongue is tied
at the heat of your eyes.
...