"When it comes to string theory, language is merely poetry; i.e. it describes daydreams and fake images that don't have anything to do with the real world of undeniable facts."

(yours truly: the Abercrombie)

(…) covered in snowfall,

and there is scarce daylight.

Early commuters are already leaving for the trains

while cold air steadily enters via the

margins of darkish

windows of the affluent room.

They shudder under the quilt

and last night's dead meat asks

them whether they are desolated or not.

Nothing.

One of them snores.

Finally, somebody awakens and quickly leaves

for the bathroom,

still feeling sick.

The toilet flushes one time and then again

and the pipes laughs sharply.

© Anders Enochsson