Here’s what I wrote last week for the poetry club…

whatever is pure

orange fragments of time pour down on me

playing snakes and ladders In this tiny actor’s flat

you’re concerned about moral disintegration

but I’m just here to watch

peanut people passing through eternity

“I’ll never go anywhere without you”

dashboard confessions, live tonight

but I’m not listening I just burnt my tongue

on the judge’s bittersweet coffee

thinking about our life covered

in sand and hope.

we wake up late, we rush to the mensa

to watch the snails and just hold hands

pretending to be in love

acting as if our hearts still skip to backseat deals

and romantic films until we feel pure again

26.8.15