Look out for cops in the woods

And bears in the city


Reach out

For the exotic flavor of everything but what you expect

The sweet taste of colors

Black, blue, yellow, dark blue, purple, white, another white and green, another white but more blue, orange, blue, blue and blue.

Green, has a slightly darker taste.

A gentle touch by yellow

A punch by grey

Now I’m running on grey, while eating orange, smoking blue

and speaking red.


The kids don’t feel it or taste it

I see a bunch of thirty and forty year old kids

I feel like a wolf.

I feel like a tiger, still a little bit like a wolf perhaps

More like an old lady with tigers and squirrels in a garden house

The tigers ate all the carrots

Timothy says it’s important I don’t get lost in the city.

I feel good and not bad

Not at all

Unless the city crumbles and i have to hear the sound of the shapes

Becoming dark blue and green again.


The bus driver is driving.

The people are floating downhill

The patterns and I are struggling to fit in the pavement

The chamber of reflection is wide open

Look there is a bird again.


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