Zaratustra

After eating
After midnight

My thoughts
go running
through
my throut
to the
hole

Never eat after midnight
more than the size
of the speculations
that the sunrise
might bring


Out of the window
My voice
run

but

I can't get
the bite
the bit

the leg
the mountain

Zaratustra:

in


desparation
my thoughts
make my throut

envy
my
whole