Peter Szabo

Broken universe What we name our life Is opposite to life itself, And conditional moods state Lying- it?s all right my friends. Blushing I?m not interested in light any more. Life?

You know, life is so sweet, Here’s Santa, snow, children’s town, Your sandals sleep in the room, Mom goes to bed, wants to sleep now. And if I see you fall asleep, I think have a joint

Forgery’ s the lilac’s smell in the night, How can it imitate perfectly your smell, my dear? Forgery’s the soft grass, but it’s all right, The quiver of your every single hair I hear. Forgery’s

I?m sitting on a twinkling wall of rocks. Summer?s lying- Its breeze, as the warmth of a nice dinner, is flying. I get my heart accustomed to silence. I have a chance- what?s disappeared

They are sleeping on water beds , pillows- I?m sleeping on sighing straw at noon. They are seeking God up among stars, While He is smiling here, in my room. They own bull terriers made of

Two girls smile at me in Beckham\'s T shirt- Millions take crack to join me for a flight. Boys smile, saying \"Non dice mi balle\" to girls, Clapton sings I look wonderful tonight.

I can\'t write near swimming- pools. I can\'t write in gardens with lakes. I can\'t write in splendid rooms. I can only write next to graves.

How can a bread smile to you? How can birds shit on your hat? How can doors hate your knock? How can a rat love a rat? How can the sky be so far from you, How can you easily melt the

Motto: ?For everything else there?s Mastercard.? Brigth blue eyes, blonde freckles, pigtails. Versace couch. Picasso, Dali on the wall. Fields smelling yellow, angelic bushes, snails. Yellow

If only next to me If only in front of me If only above me If only behind me If only under me If only silently If only inside me If only with me If only nobody If only somebody here If only

Tulips always wither before you come to talk. God starts the air-condition in May approximately. My mother?s currant-juice tastes better than a Coke. Before, after lunch, in sunshine, rain I want