Chaos in the Megamachine




Kick-start a life      and celebrate         your child’s first drive,
perfume the air,     particulates  matter,


Born into     the world a leaf     swirled about         by      powerful
market forces


For just two days,  a flight to where,   the sun burns down,        it’s anywhere,
a hotel pool, departing:


Upmarket stuff      related to     conditions of         hardship


Take a seat, on a rush-hour train, play your muzak, at full blast, unheard of,
Acoustic pollution


Your smartphone neck is ridiculed by minerals extracted by underage labour
Buy a new one


Catch the early train and resign yourself to eight more hours of vain
Pharma profits


Day in day out, awareness scouts bring it home to us but we deny the fallout


The juicy steak, a foolproof fake, the cheapest cut, but in its wake, horror reigns, no humane,


Catch the early train and resign your-self to insights gained long before:



The Banker

The banker


My thoughts need time…

Your ideas re-align

Our views do depend

On ready-made mistakes

Money is a storage  it makes you feel euphoric

Later I discovered    a shadow and it hovered

On my interest creating crime…

It’s a fine line

He got out of hand

Financing shifting sands

Read it in the paper, good news ‘bout a banker

Gave it all away, to people old and fray

Heard it in the news, of whom he was accused

Misappropriated the funds but he related:

My thoughts went bold

Later on you’ll agree

To be in cash means to me

That we are supposed to be

Generous to a fault reversing the assault

There is no destiny just splendid devilry

My thoughts need time…

Your ideas re-align

Our views do depend

On ready-made mistakes

Missing Trombone

Industrial Wasteland


My flat’s a dockyard

My flat’s a dockyard

And I hear that         sound

Of somebody            around

The restless   legs

Searching for anchorage

Whoever it is it’s driving me mad

And I know for          sure

Anyone in my           place

Would feel the same           Am I to blame

Blue drilling machines

Their noise in my veins

Causing high pressure / acoustic aggressors

My flat’s a     dockyard

Somebody’s  riveting

But I know for sure

Should ever you need

A helping hand / as quick as I can

I would come around

Would be bound to see

Bells and whistles / latest of toys, senses

swim and swoon

But if any time soon

Should I need help / you won’t let me down

with your clomping feet

on my ceiling the beat

Of your wrong trumpet play / I’ll lump it and say

My flat’s a     dockyard

Afternoons    being marred


I might go aloft

As you’re partying late, poly-

phasic sleep / too much on my plate

My flat’s a     dockyard



God Night Spooky Woogie


Tango Technico