Aphid from Help by I Divorced Life

They carry you
Two of them
One in front and one behind
Suspended and stiff

You make the impression of being dead
But only because you are

Now sheet-covered
Two of them lift you out of (y)our room

Living room next
Cold and curiously dank
No longer candle-lit

Approach the front steps

Yellow-brownish stone
Forward and one step down
Carefully that you don't smash your knees

Past the ghost of once aphid-infested pinkness

A crackling of pepples
A seldom used parking space
Yet here is your ride
Sirens won't be needed today

There is nowhere you have to be
Infatuation
Restlessness
On the slab
Visit may be rain-checked

You'd rather just off yourself than accept its indifference

It's too cold to keep pretending it's not
A fire broke out in the cow house
The goodnight tale of
"The Little Artery That Could"

• Experimental
• avantgarde
• electronic
• lo-fi
• noise
• Hamburg