Earth's the right place for love

As I join the singing on a party at
the market place. We stand side by side.
Alle Menschen werden Brüder. We move
back and forth as elms in a spring storm.
Fun is like oxygen, happiness is a hoarse
throat. It is written on our foreheads. As
long as we are here, life has a meaning.
Until I decide to leave the masses.
The stage, the speakers, the smell of
burgers with caramelized onions. To get
lost in the winding alleys, the gray roads,
the hidden paths, the dead-end streets.
The silence is more melancholic than the
songs of the accordion playing men, life is
rounder than the bosom of the women on
the balconies. I got it handed on a tray:
the deformed, the strange, the exceptional.
So I learn my own story. The unique, the
ordinary, the real. To return to the
market place. To order a sandwich, a
glass of milk. To occupy my place with
pleasure. My notebook, my Ikea pencil.