nothing else

Gustaf Munch-Petersen: The Lowest Country

I’m just swaying

here in the grass

which sways

sings of bite

here in the dark yellow flowers

here together with my little drum

I hate thin voices

ridiculously high voices

I have a crumbling mumble myself

I’m just saying

that you should stay here

stay here –

you lose something

if you leave now

do you leave now?

if you stay here

nobody knows, what might happen

see my little drum

it is a great great rarity

if you speak now

I will choke you –