The Morning After Thrill

A plush field of grass floats on a cool cup of tea
A league of ghosts draped in white stare back at me
Marching on in after hard labour
I Sieve my deepest dreams, no sugar, no matter
The morning after
I said, I won’t give up on my bowel of crêpes, Brown Syrup and Golden butter


Thank Gollum it’s Friday

Dreams are a real deal thing
Rolling under the bed
Making a friend of my shadow
I wonder: “what’s a glock ring?”
This ain’t what you think it is
Energy-drink drinking grandma-ma dances on a gold trimmed pole swaying hips in a come-hither sort of way
Wake up stiff and sniff arm pits – all I’ve got to say:
Thank Gollum it’s Friday


You want me to be superhuman

-i never said

The way you look at me, the way your face turns when I do something human

-you’re imagining things

I blow my nose and you tense up, you see the contents of my drawer and you act like some juvenile from the movies. This is real life and I’m a human being same as you

-yea well…

Don’t ‘never mind’ me. Are we two grown-ups in this relationship or is this a movie with cameras and no end to your imagined action?

-i don’t think I can do this

And most things too. Enjoy your starring role.

A coin dropped in The packed Kraft Café and everybody continued where they left off when he walked out the door.
She swiped her newspaper and put on her reading glasses, sipping on some coco-Kaffeesahne