in port alberni
hobos drink
red bull not beer

after lifting the receiver
the nearby road
turned into a truck route

standing in the middle
of people who have no idea of
what the other ones did

fressen
schafe spinnen
mit ?

forced to listen, i wish
i had a gun and the
mind of a psychopath

my only hope's that
everything, eventually
has to end

hippies:
high priests of
modern escapism

there are no shortcuts
to the bee-line.
unfortunately

my wake-up clock:
woodpeckers, seagulls,
humming birds, chickadees

looking at the world
through madly
insane eyes