On the diligent charachter of hope and the futility of arguing.

(the painting is a gift from my son)
 
My book
this book,
the earring in my lung,
the cherries
the cherries
and the blood spot.
My God
my God
forget me not!
the flower
the flower?
or the blood spot.
The lighthouse
that floats
on the iris of my eye
this stem that strangles me
is that I
The pool
the river
this sanitary thought
hanging
hanging
at the back of my throat
Mother
my mother
did you see?!
this beating
this [...]

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Boredom.

Shred the boredom. Horizontally. Vertically. Bug it with a fork, like food leftovers.Sitting beside the table, staring at me, are all the characters and shapes my boredom ever fit into. They are all sighing, frozen in a state of disappointment.Even the paperclip guy is bored or is he simply being bitchy (so to say)…? Silence…then [...]

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