***
wet wood
butterfly flies up
to the flames

I flow out of myself into the red palms of war, destroyed houses, temples of corpses, heaps of metal and some burnt tires.

I flow out completely and spread all over the earth

I am now the earth itself

around some sounds but I don’t care
from now on I am a raw bloody flat and merciless earth

remember son I’m yours
forever

***
the evacuation bus goes
to the oven

***
light haze in the belly of graceful flowers
this is not a landscape

***
Book with lilac knowledge
Like a banner with a gentle hand
unknown (non-existent)
(Insignificant) god
Opens closes
And don’t mean a thing
Clouds of mighty antique oak hands over her punctuation-silent body run while remaining in place.

Orange diseases instead of the usual red blood show through and dry up
Snow like dandruff comes from above the book cradle and covers the contents of enigi
All that meaningful meaningless entailing the question of the possibility of taming water and the need for buzzing bees

The book after reading all that nonsense will ask (all those numbers letters treatises of philosophy)
What is a society
Even if I’m individually a sad song in an already unfamiliar language
Tower of Babel outside the window which is destined to die

Window jump?
Strikethrough

The house falls on its side
The book falls out of the window

***
Life is scarier than art
Irresistible Museum
With their obligatory tears

And yet this non-functional
Homeland is a solid sacred-suicide
***
scared not to jump down from the bridge
scared that no one will stop you

***
I love you. So let’s be strangers forever. Under the rustle of fresh autumn foliage, loudly screaming with its rough flesh, promise that nothing will happen next.

I love you. So let’s not play feelings. I don’t want to greet you, or get to know you, or impose on my habitually sounding stupidity that doesn’t fit – you can drown in this, like a pool, from which the exit is directly and without transfers into another pool.

I do not love you. I have a strange desire to kill someone like you, to kill someone like me inside my head.

I do not love you. You are the best version of me, but it hardly matters and benefits. I am a dotted line and you are an ellipsis. I am a circle and you are an oval. I will bleed, but you will die, killed on a whim, killed on my whim, killed on my own whim by me inside my head.

***
God in the feminin
God in a feminine
And it seems like nothing

***
When the word love means love
Something is trying to burst inside
Is this more fearful than usual?
Is this death even greater than usual?

What’s the right way to call it all?
Deafness?
River?

Surprised question mark
All kinds of signs
Shapes symbols
voids

What is the cold wasteland thinking about
What does Tumbleweed

What does the oak dream about
Until the wind wakes him up?

***
A stapler bit his tongue
Staple hit the body
Office of subjects
Butterfly from pieces of metal

The child fell asleep
Under the roar of explosions
The child has dreams

***
Looked down
As the rain looked down

Time kills
Grass

Betrayed sold the world war and moors
Mother-cat’s kittens-projectile

Signature
Seal
the date of death

***
Morphology of crying
When stepped on the chill of the leaves
In a warm forest

***
Boxing before and after midnight
Basketball in the morning
Football match in the afternoon
War tomorrow on schedule

Creativity, Culture, Poetry