This is like an online notebook, this stuff is not finished or often even started properly.

Berlin ich vermisse dich schon!

Bei Die Mauer.

The old man lets his hound wander
Criss-crossing the old border
With an ease that must sting
Even now
As the trees peel once again
Banishing the young coveters of frei skin
Leaving he and his
Who wear brown as a tribute to the cycle
They know it is the real colour of death
His cigar branch-like
Dripping tar to rest in the breeze
Where once stood the greatest organ of this city
The limb that held history in motion
Throughout his life
That he cannot escape
Which his hund is circling
And perhaps he knows he circles too
His nub end untwisting in the breeze
Earthen strands turning
Meeting with rot leaves
His head tilting forward
At me passing ?
Immature in black
A stranger to death
Or does he nod in tribute to the cycle
To the turning of the earth
To the passing of time
To his anchor
To his inside pockets filled with dead leaves and cigar dog ends.


  1. Replies
    1. Fuck you I know that ha you misses the point yeah it has a point like apencil made of lead

    2. Also I just asked some germans and they said it's Die Mauer anyway.

  2. better to miss the point than have it poke you in the eye. what can i say? my mother has a gun to my head.