Excerpt:
I dive where logic cannot swim.

H2: The Oink Beneath the Surface

Down here, words dissolve.
Color becomes pressure,
and every bubble carries a thought that forgot its grammar.
My snout filters ideas from the current —
half poetry, half oxygen.
Ich bin Schwein im Aggregatzustand des Traums.

H3: Conversation with the Bubbles

Bubble 1: Is this art?
Bubble 2: Nein, it’s buoyancy.
Bubble 3: I was a metaphor once, now I’m just air.
And I — I am their audience,
softly snorting applause.

H2: Pig in Blue Minor

Blue hums around me like slow jazz.
Pink drifts by, uncertain but sincere.
Lines float, unanchored,
searching for meaning or maybe lunch.
Each contour bends like water thinking of form.

H3: Abschlussoink – Deep Thought Edition

If you listen closely,
you’ll hear the sea thinking of pigs.
We are cousins in absurdity,
creatures of breath and bewilderment.
Down here, even silence gurgles.
And Dada —
Dada is the current that carries us all.