Shifting the utopian imagination
That is trapped in a one-way longing for the far
and the furthest
I see now and there, I see all the lines,
as here
____ And so
I become the horizon
SKY AND TEMPERATURE
TEMPERATURE AND THEN I
I DON'T THINK I WANNA
WANNA WANNABE WAS ME
ME AND MY DAD AND MY FATHER
FATHER FATHERS AND I HAVE A GOOD TIME
TIME TO SEE IF I WANNA BE
WANNA WANNABE A GOOD DAY
Looking from a distance
Marvelling at the effortless display
of the horizon’s perfect sprawl
The split stretches it’s stupid direction
Insulted, make-up smeared
Littered by train compartments muffled drawl
Kicking and screaming to break discretion
Sky and land obedient to each others restraint
Pressed firmly against visions limitation
Longing for what it tries to hide
beyond sight
Train of tought heading to the horizon
So if I leave my body here,
my thoughts, my knowings,
my here I leave, my time-span
And I've arrived at a destination, I don't recognize as
this place got off at the previous stop
I see a mass passing.
Let's say there's one thing I kept: a hair
To know in which direction to walk,
I take the hair and make it my horizon.
This means I walk with my feet down
This means the sun will warm my balding head
(and a wig isn't the same)
žedjenja mi je druška/ dat ook de horizon een ster is/ hast mein ohne verhagenis