golfer by Jan Grünfeld

Talk, noise, voices, guitars. Beauty is everywhere. Your hand touches my hand. I ask you for the time. I'll pick you up from school today. Thou headphones plugged into his ears. Everything is the same. All is well. I improvise on the doorstep, in the woods, on the field. Music comes out of the car radio, from the ICE seat, from the computer to the I-pod, the TV, mobile phones, the street, the room next door and my guitar. Fragments of my soul. Or yours? Random is a uniformly active principle. The butterfly principle. No principle. Summerfugl's your Facebook name,