I do all my best work in the past.
Sometimes it feels difficult
To start one thing
When another is unfinished
The rocks look like mushrooms
The fog makes us feel like we’re cooking.
Our juices are coming out
They make water for the plants.
I did all my best work in the future.
Sometimes it is hard to imagine
That anything
Is ever really finished
Ground control to Mr. Tom
All the amazing things
One can do with peanuts.
It’s not over yet.
When will it be enough.
We can not boil away
The bugs in our stomach
We can not peal our skin
Like the covering on a Weißwurst
Where is the line between
government and music
Where is the line between
people and art
Where is the the line between
The line between the lines
That keep the cars from
Smashing