Ladies Motorcycle Clothing

Empty Room: One Swinging coat hanger measures the silence

Birth: Perfect from the start that one cell contains already the wrinkles and death of an old man.

After a Heated Argument I go out to the street and become a motorcycle

The Watch: I wakened on my hot, hard bed, Upon the pillow lay my head; beneath my pillow i could hear, my little watch ticking clear, I thought the throbbing of it went like my continual discontent; I hought it said in every tick: I am so sick, so sick, so sick, oh death come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.