my legs still itch;
as if i were still standing
between stinging nettles

my feet are
a symphony of
different colored mud

der wind
bläst mich
fast vom rad

turning right and
surviving starts with
the same manoeuver

du redest pausenlos
aber was du sagst
ist falsch

a little less spontaneity
and she would outcompete
sessile lifeforms

my thoughts wander between
heating up the furnace
and going back to denver

don't pass under me
i'm practicing
a levitation act

und von oben
kamen
weberknechte

some of them look
like they should
sit on their faces