Buzz, buzz
This was...

Before the game of gamble starts
it is already paid for...

I lost the game
when I found you...

Garden is the taste of honey.
Garden is a symphony...

Garden is in the taste of honey...

What a night it was!
Such an atrocious human-being...

The whole world
gravitates...

The abyss of shapes
drop to drop...

I am the poet of the true reality—
not the shared dream, communal illusion...

She cried for a little gingerbread,
its arm was missing...

What am I to do when the gladiolus cannot stretch...
this vase of loneliness anymore...

God is dead,
thus Zarathustra said...