
I look at hundreds
of little square outside scenes
afraid to stand there

I look at hundreds
of little square outside scenes
afraid to stand there

A conversation
seen in the form and its parts
a visual sound

I see all the lines
going straight for a long while
cornered illusion

I am collecting
fences out of their focus
and not for that long

The colors around
I bath in them for you to
till colder water

You only see me
to good on a light background
choices you don't make

The corner appears
I feel it touching the walls
but I don't see it

Something has to bear
the weight you will take with you
poems over depth

In the same picture
we're standing separated
unnoble construct

A measuring eye
so I stand in front of you
looking the same way

From the color of
what I see as foundation
I look inside out

If one is a philosopher, as men have always been philosophers, one cannot see what has been and becomes-one sees only what is. But since nothing is, all that was left to the philosopher as his “world” was the imaginary.

When you do freeze time
people seem to walk backwards
especially in B&W

Through a dark facade
I see through another one
juggling as masters

I see what hangs out
of every room you air out
but I don't collect

I look at the sky
always there above the walls
can't find my new shades