by atma anna christ
Mask on and the dance was taking place on open field full of chamomile
the old pal was drunk today and no one could think of him as a child
full of life playing baseball on a ground of camomile and the scent being still with him
in this dark corner of his appartment on the twentieth floor of some high rise in some big city
where the apartments are full of glass windows and the sun rise light comes up too early for an old drunk in the morning
Need my soul back he said before he passed out
Got me wondering where to whom did he sell it short for a drink , for a kiss for a real goodbye?
Then the darkness … transmission over
Listening to ‘ambient society’ late June drunk by the seashore somewhere on an island in Greece thirty years ago
C est tout !