these days


these days i do things with empty chairs
i do things with crows too
age of world lost to the worlds
hello bottom
i sit in front of chairs
the Bottle Cup of marvelous airs lost
friend’s dunno sun without arc
all irk no lark
it’s not the season
crow came to visit me
because of empty chairs
american crow, flores crow
sat on the window sill
taxing me, a haver
get lost i said
it glid-glode
to the next level
showing its tail to me
no middle feathers

cellophane silk paling
levitation of a different tap room
awaiting sticky strands
the dissipating impact energy
red carpeting next
to gapping rose lure
o, obstinate November
new spider webs for another
“World in the Moon”
just like young friends meeting in bremen
breachy drops of time
tai tai phish
reddish shine

anyone will fall for a fish line
i count chairs in the meantime
speed craw fishing lures
creature bait creative
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” once more i come, and then the end must be ”
facing high elasticity
optical hybrid devices
natural wetting properties
lampshades of paradise

i keep counting the zoom chairs, ultraviolet
crows can read differences in plumage
cougars stay – ears laid back
uncertain patterns up to my neck
hot body of words
ignoring all facts

no convener
empty chairs
drop volley

—Martina Gertrude Siebert