‘’all our science are primitive an childlike’’

(Albert Einstein)

Nowadays we are terrible good at science

brilliant mathematicians do wonderful tricks

around the clock with mesmerize result as we go

build a long-term tradition reconciling time

– they can’t help- killing and eating anything

like a wild boars burst in the middle of nowhere

account all data from past to past

I felt quite envious you know,

are all so f* good as we call

wearing big hats are the prophets of something already dying

master of master

of our time

even the mist of the future not having escape

like in a ‘’beautiful mind’’ all the worlds sound as a broken code

as a probability

of probability which they can sort out anytime

on a small piece of paper publish in who knows magazine.


And here I am

paralyzed, mirrored by my own impotence

drunk in a moody trench of rhymes

not knowing what I am looking for

I can’t even account the number of cigarettes I was smoking today

not the number of bottles I dispose

not the years of my lovely dog either

or the waves I receive from the left of my hart

trying to be the ‘’master of my soul’’

I fall always ludicrous over the number of my age

the number of my happy day as they are

the number of my good poems if not one

‘’and so on’’

(Žižek – left inflammatory balcanic gheșeft)

and ”Zone in”

multiplied by uncountable

number of silences.