How long have I trample, It can be seen on the heel.
Cobweb finger also does not remove the chela.
Then in a loud nice doodle,
that sounds like yesterday.
But dark thoughts do not really fix,
both on the forehead fallen askew strand.
And it does not dream of anything, to be less,
less likely to come true, do not litter
time. Beggar quarter window
It is an eyesore, to, in its turn,
face remember tenant, but not
how he thinks, conversely.
And the room exactly shaman circling,
I wind, like a ball,
over its emptiness, that the soul
I knew something, that God knows.
1980 – 1987