Present

Infected by the air whereon they ride with bleeding necks kai tremamena here, with air, beats, oranges and cinnamon, prwta pojei, meta poda, wishing for lines, for paragraphs, for books, male and/or female, even now within their homecoming, within the paranoia that the social feeds, confused sexes, going backwards to go [w]here, because things do end up shit yet not always in-between, or on, the sheets, and we know that, yes I know that, with a wish, as if, gamwto shisto mou!, and to say we do not drink, we do, we do, and sometimes we even look at the bright side of life, albeit through the backroom bar, and still, still, via an empty glass, imagery for words and words for the imagery of our skull's guts, our chest's logic, us, non-focused, who like people too much, My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight and people like us too much, while they game plays and leave us at the station, with famous raincoats and gifts as books, The flighty purpose never is o'ertook / Unless the deed go with it.
Simera exanakopika aristera, xanalerwsa to lefko fanellaki aristera, kai epimenw na psahnw to stripsimo aristera, pou en ixerw oute gw, and untill what always already, inheriting, us, in the absence of friends, the custom, remains unfinished, never comes, in pub. houses nevertheless, alli mia fora, once more, patience. Ypo/Menw And damned be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'

When shall we [three] meet again? / In thunder, lighting or in rain? // When the hurly-burly's done, / When the battle's lost and won.

In that order,