Pigture

Gedicht (EN): The espresso is a black hole in a ceramic thimble. My neighbor is blue; is it oxygen deprivation or just the economy? I watch him through the steam of suspicion. He wears the cold geometry of a winter morning, wrapped in teal silence. I burn in orange panic, clutching the handle like a … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The alarm clock is a guillotine for the dream. 08:30: The precise moment the soul realizes it is Tuesday. The mouth is a black tunnel leading to the boardroom. Aaaah! says the coffee. Oooooh! says the deadline. One eye is blue with cold logic, the other pink with inflammation. The throat swells with … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The orange knee hits the purple thigh. A collision of soft geometries in the waiting room of existence. We sit in a circle of expectation, breathing the same recycled air. The blue face says nothing, the green face screams internally. Chair legs root into the abyss of the carpet. We are a bouquet … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The lips are frozen in a silent blue scream. A red pillar of shame divides the face of the century. One eye looks at the stock market, the other into the abyss. Sanctify the geometry! The soul is a puzzle with missing pieces. Yellow fear sits on the right cheek, green envy on … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The halo is a burning tire of neon rubber. Saint Chromium prays to the god of the spectrum. Orange screams at purple: “Kneel, you peasant of the wavelength!” The eye is a digital pixel of infinite guilt. We worship the brushstroke, not the miracle. Amen to the turpentine! The liturgy is a rainbow … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The cup is a volcano of liquid giggles! Yellow meets Blue in a tango of steam and sugar. Ten-thirty is not a time, it is a launchpad for the soul! Gulps of brown gold tickle the throat of the bourgeoisie. We do not stand, we vibrate! We oscillate! The ceiling dissolves into a … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The red stripes are the bars of a heated cage, curving into infinity. Round and round goes the logic, a carousel of thermal exhaustion. But look! In the corner! A knot of indigo treason! The “point” does not jump; it festers like a bruised ego in a sea of orange compliance. Chaos is … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The velvet seat is a soft coffin for the ego. Champagne bubbles are square and taste of rust and dividends. Look through the window: the proletariat is just a gray smear on the retina. My ticket costs a heart, but the legroom is infinite! The conductor is a skeleton checking the validity of … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The windshield is a mosaic of forbidden syllables. Pastel silence suffocates the engine’s roar. Blue shards cut the tongue of the passenger. Do not speak! The driver is a geometry of absolute power. We travel through a tunnel of pink noise and forgotten tickets. The destination is a fractured concept, dissolved in acrylic … Read more

Gedicht (EN): The concrete blossoms in the gray matter of the satellite town. Cogito, ergo U-Bahn. The U5 train screeches a lullaby of steel and Döner grease. Thoughts are trapped in black cages of lead, screaming for an exit. She ponders the metaphysics of the ticket machine. Blue melancholy drips onto the escalator of eternity. … Read more