poet & friend

midweek/ time flies.

mr t. isn’t always ‘en garde’

definitely today earlier up

as usual.

first motion – open up his

laptop –

there’s always a celebration

in the digital world:

lots of laughter about some

e-mail hackers

who demand thru’ fabricated


substantial money transfers

if you happen to be without


you’ll never fall for such an



for the sensual artist/

the innermost conscious poet/

who discards idiocy/

he-who lives within his stanzas

sleeps sweet dreams

in the lair of his muse

in the princely clouds of his

elevated mind

where wise humans never


but wise humans never fall

in love.

now then.

a morning’s flight above

the roofs of vienna’s core.




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