From a glowed hole in the land
ascends the laughter. . .
from the red with horns in his pan
and suit aces to tail
preaches with
double edge tongue. . .

- come and purchases preserved porridge,
come before it cools!


From a sky so blue
rocks angels on row
to harp music
were the word preaches

- there is only I!


and there between
I am walking. . .

with marks of books
in the back of my head
and burned of life