the grass at cross purposes

the grass at
cross purposes
having

grown
straight and
tall and bearing

its message, time
has passed
and

now the messages
cross each
other

layered one on
top of
the

other in languages
we can't
really

speak,
maybe simple
messages, seed, seed,

seed,
maybe thoughts
of who am

I, maybe this
is mine,
maybe

I'm waiting for
you to
fall,

maybe peace, love
and happiness ...
so

much in mind,
the more
you

know
the less
you can speak

forces
greater, lesser,
winning, losing, keeping

what's mine, rarely
ours, privatizing
myspace
___

Mathias S,
memories of RDPF who used to call evenings, a bit tipsy sounding, and reading, not to be recorded, repeated, remembered, commented upon