how are you fee­ling in ancient September
I am fee­ling like a truck on a wet high­way
how can you
you were made in the image of god
I was not
I was made in the image of a sis­sy truck-dri­ver
and Jean Dubuffet pain­ting his cows
« with a like­ness burst in the memo­ry« 
apart from love (don’t say it)
I am asha­med of my cen­tu­ry
for being so enter­tai­ning
but I have to smile