The soft finish of leather armchairs
music like a flowing mist
trough the hair salon

The excitement or is it
fear

A book in front of the mirror
not my biography
hers
the woman
Norma jean

***

Me
the word of I
the self
constructed, build, reformed
the word of I
the identity
constructed, vanished, reunited

***

The sound of
one hundred helicopters
your body underneath
the crowd is turning
against you

No sound just the noise of
one hundred helicopters
your body craving
the crowd is turning
closing up around you

The final solution: shut down the engine

***

When did it start
this ever lasting circle
of excitment?
When did it start
this ongoing world
of non-stop motion?

When
did
it

The change
the fall
that always arrives
to late
to early

***

Ambivalence
the naive
history of life
never sure
always sure
Give me a path
to follow

***

And I will walk
straight forward
my head high
I'll look straight in to
the eyes
of the people
who
degenerated
me