tweed vest and hunting hat

I once walked along Australian trellises and natives

where many nationalities merged into one evening song

sitting in a vast, overgrown garden

I pondered on the inevitability of growth

*

my parched and ripe lips yearned to learn

all the flimsy flavours found in a foreign, furrowed land

they became my mantra, my prayer, my recipe

how to live and what use to make of this new life that has been given to me

*

feeling as an Englishman must feel in New York

I became a European lost on English soil

who flew out of the nest once and upon return

was devoid of beginnings, but were they there in the first place?

*

I never thought about it until now, perhaps it’s a good time

to mention all fatty foods and holy offerings

it became blurry, it never meant so much

as pure existence based on the here and now

*

who is there to tell me what to think?

what or who should I believe in if it’s just me?

I can only put my life in my own hands

there is no one else who can rebuke my free will

*

in the meantime, I defeated all the vile sea creatures greedy to steal my personality

and after the melee I left them below two hundred feet

everyone felt sorry, the stupefied eyes showed more than the eyes of a martyr

(by the way, everyone wants us to be like that where I come from)

*

they couldn’t believe what they found under their too shallow skin

rotten seed scattered in a selfish field

and there I landed as light as a feather

no one can take that away from you once you settled

***

Thank you for reading!

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