suddenly there was Summer
and it won’t go away anymore
it’s weather outside
but I’d like to stay in
should I begin
to order online
up and down my grocery list
sitting in homeoffice twenty-four-seven
I’ll be in heaven
possibly not
more like hell
to tell
friends and family good-bye
until Summer might be over
in November two-thousand-thirty-ni

        I won’t see the river turning into a wadi

                I won’t listen to sad Summer songs

                        I won’t smell the human sweat in trams

                                I won’t bath in public swimming pools

                        I won’t hug the trees in city gardens

                I won’t fly across the Atlantic

        I won’t dance through the clubs like a frantic

there is my flat I might survive in
if there is still fresh water in sixteen years
possibly not
well let’s see if I can make it then
to Siberia.

        © Dominik Alexander / 2023