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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • SLIM AMONG STRAIGHT SOULS

     

    In this world, the sobering, lying and false admonitions of the human head are heard, behind the windows you can still clearly see the alley-smelling, rat-gnawed, urine-smelling city of Nineveh, in which - sooner or later - everyone cheats, deceives or manipulates others for a career, for five-minute fame, for good-sounding Júdás money, and the dog doesn't really care anymore that he leaves unwashable dirt stains on his own soul.

    Those who have agreed now will rather break up the next day and immediately part ways, hunting for new chick meat, those who thought they had arrived, find shelter in the rush, will suddenly continue to stay, because they will soon realize that laurel wreaths here are only for the hard-working ass-lickers and sole-grabbers.

    - The 72-hour, slightly grumpy nurse suffering from insomnia - since one can rarely find a vein so sleepily - usually tries three more times on the patient before finally taking blood; no thank you, everything will be fine, or for God's sake - in a shuffling Linda clump, even a mechanized, automaton-droid will already hold itself and continue to stand, while black mold makes holes in the wretched, destroyed walls that lied to be sterile.

    The deliberate shrinking of the words dubbed honest can be seen in the confusing main sentences: big words, promises, even greater extremes characterize those who are on the watch and those who seek refuge. Even weekdays, which rarely promise opportunities, drown in anticipation; this is how we become ghosts of ourselves as shadow-souls.

    A useless, worthless mist enriched with indigo descends not only on the walls of the houses, but on the entire bribed, shackled, slave wills. The flamboyant V.I.P.-dazzle of neon-light advertisements both permanently blinds, weakens and irritates even sober souls.

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