6 words. an urban poem

it darkens so nothing unusual; and
you are no exception. when yesterday
it was so noisy that your
streets could hardly balance — retain the
currents of people. the stars again
were falling and turning into small
snowflakes. like small fireflies in the
air. butterflies were fluttering in my
dreams, but in reality we were
rushing through narrow streets. I was
always afraid of your cobbled streets.
twice, I almost broke down. but
I cannot blame your for that.

the call was cut off once
again. it is this beeping always,
but it sounds differently each time
as an audial illusion with two
metronomes. I though that the phone
wires are your arteries. but you
say that it has become your
straightjacket. the surveillance cameras are like
the hunter’s net encircled your joints
you are like a trained dog –
people gave you life, but it
is them who took your freedom.
morbidity becomes liberation. an illness becomes
the existence, when health is alienated.

but something was saving me from
fractures and concussions — when I was
crossing the street on the red
when someone deliberately cut me off,
but returned home as nothing had
happened –

perhaps to finally get through on
the phone. or at least write
a letter to those not having
a phone, only the remaining sentence
time. how do you like to
be turned into prison concrete? cutting
your veins might be more satisfying,
but your kind don’t know
how. people create new buildings, so
there are more empty spaces. why
live then? [a quote of Debord?]
a spectacle of empty spaces — John
Cage writing for Capital. squat eviction.
graffiti removal. another sentence. sentence for
graffiti. hi, I hope you will
read this, when you are back
from the solitary confinement cell, but
poems like this do not go
past censorship. the wind does not
permeate concrete walls. that’s why
I prefer getting cold in the
wind.

the light on your body help

to see the ground — but we

don’t see stars anymore. this

saves me from another crash. even

when my glasses get splattered with

rain, [for some reason] I reach

home.