Winter Light

is it lonely she asked me
is it I asked myself
is it me and winter light spewing wings
on blocks – attaching moths to Tarot snipers?
with a secure pin
think of the image they get
counterculturing the obvious art current
we don't like at all
is it like she asked me
is it like I asked myself
in winter light that spews fish head masks
on everything
with a secure sentence
out of any language
shrieks of pre-recorded gulls ad cliché
hum synthesizers
while riding the bahn
I, the silver hero! I, the heroic metal!
Is it heavy she asked me
is it I asked myself
and stuck my organs deeper
into the seat, cool plastic
resonating with bones
accordion rhythm of a dying old man
on station
the other station kept waiting for me
I kept rolling in direction
of livable clowns
safer that way, I asked her.