I

I sat down by the river,

How nicely it replaces me.

Dullsville nights in the desert

Infirm, fragile and frail, not free.

Can I take air in?

So-called breath

Can throw air out?

Because now exiled and exhaled.

The triumph taken trough trauma

With so-called affliction

Maybe mishap, maybe drama

And so-called survival

Serendipity, lost or taken by gust

Those hunters with phone

Asking Euonia,”am I must”

Long, luftmensch and lone…