es gibt kein richtiges Leben im Falschen
Adorno tells me, and for a while
I’ve kept quiet about that
and still gone on living
how can I blather so
when I’m so bogged down
I write my feelings
that they make me suffer
and ask them why they won’t change me
after that I did many searches on Google
which also doesn’t know how it feels
to be alive in the twenty-first century
I mean, that’s trying something
bumping up against connections and flexibility
how does that feel?