18.1.11

FF#10

A sea of lamps click on and off.
The walls all chant my name in unison.
Helsinki in my pocket.
Tumbleweed tour of planet Earth.

I crack, like an egg.

This is how my fridge sounds:
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

To whom it may concern;
Writing tired may be harmful to one's helth.
Where'd the 'a' go?

6.1.11

FF#8

Volume

I never thought about space
until I tried to pack
my life into one box.