Gallery/Literary

Office conversations ... ...

The coins stand on their head, supported by the felt-tips and a ballpoint pen. The envelope opens slowly without knowing why. A little beetle looks for distance, limping at the 36th leg. The Tesaband shines self-satisfiedly on the table and is proudly pleased about her existence. The picture in the golden frame mocks: I am reality. No frame of the world believes this. The ink cartridges lie still badly in her box, sheltered well by two paper clips organize which alternately amuse himself with a shirt button. Even the stamps organize himself to journey or verdict. A terrible thought drove the filling feather by the hull: I have ' forget to sign! The battery laughs full loaded energy about so much weakness and the nail clip tricky himself, because he is sharp. Only the calling card, half of a second conceal, show calmness and address. The Internationality is missing, the Turkish dictionary calls. One to shear French would be good for me! Without knowing that English is after him.The ordering catalog mumbles about hundred of book titels and vast amounts CDs. I am a close-out sale, he sometimes says understandably, favorably. I´m too, thought the chewing gum, after whole packet had him left. A quick Can-Can accompanies this plan.The coins still stand on their head, supported by felt-tips and a ballpoint pen, but the envelope is sudden closed. It knows now this had opened it to himself. The 24th leg of the limping beetle sticks at the gummed envelope opening. The eraser grins and the half empty ink cartridge announces: I know, I know .........

time -- loose

The mazurka laughs at the bolero. You swing too much. When you will study on to run the steps. Times yell out outragedly and from protest leaves the melody in the sting. The baton for fright stiffens in the air and thinks, where shall I do with my drive?The drum, the drum, she must get mechanical. The melody sinks in deeply sleep. The trombones hectically and A tonally chatter, where is our time? The cellos morosely clatter nothing for nothing, again, again. The Tschinelle rattel, excites for anger and orders triangles to vibrate.
Oh fright, so the violins in the choir, how shall it goes on. The kettledrum timpani, in memory of an earlier bolero night with the time, swings quietly and timidly her tense surface. The mazurka is silent, the bolero wakes up, the melody has become a slave to the time in that night.

La vie en rose....

One sees the quiet fog overcast landscape. Nothing can be heard in the body. The mouse talks himself with the nightingale and the cat stretch on the lap of the dog. Nobody says a word. Everything looks rigidly and nothing moves. The melody means, it occurs to me now again, la vie en rose. A fly disturbs my prayers, so also the pianist. He is bad and twinkles on the ribs of an animal carcass.The fall is brown, yellow, red and black, like a tail coat which sticks on a crocodile.The snake laughs about this and is glad not to have to carry one. La vie en rose, in La Vie En rose, in blue and all disappeared. The pencil points at the paper and emphasizes the magic world. La vie en rose .... The pocket calculator changes into the shadowy existence and think over, without energie, whether he shall further lives. Please, don't look at me so, I don't know , what I then for me shall think. My dog is always there , the sunglasses darken off shamefully. The blue eyes sparkle into the sky and everything gets good so again. No thunder accompanies this lightning and no rain follows the tears. The love to the beer develops big power at the hop. The effect is quiet and it disturbs nobody. Quiet one sees the fog overcast landscape . La vie en rose......

The randy dandelion

Speaks the toothless dandelion the marsh marigold, lets go us do an intersection?
Now, stupid lion flower, I don´t be a marsh tooth! Go to people like you, test with a rooster!