The procession of rapid lights all around,
loudspeakers,
smiles,
a rampant hallucination of torn heads,
so many eyes of the fallen,
smiles…
smiles everywhere.
Even the rush of the engagements can’t stop you to see above the lights of fades,
you are there with your arms and face and nose and legs,
are you there with something, some chaos that prevails?
This maze room,
this twisted leisure,
in process; somebody creates,
somebody sells oneself for the idea of creation
and somebody locks himself in a cage
and cease within.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Johannes Krupinski.