Max Ernst goes shopping

where really does one
accept/want to be of the hearth and home
anyway?
is it safe or unreal?
when it really matters
do you want to confront
your vast denial?

I suggest an island
loaded with birds
exotica
drugs
and a far horizon
on which to forget

either that or hear the alarm
right now
it is 06:46
and the rest of your
fucking life
in doubt or hope

seriously,
put that gun to your head
and say yes

.