if in this frühling like a fall
the prices of a barrel of crude oil
keep fluctuating
and we between hope and fear
in any other chilisaltpeter
keep contemplating
the unpredictable behavior
in les marchés libres
than we prefer to keep ignoring
the news of the next crash, the next
bailout situation
if these frühling revolutions
have been displaced by rude sieges
they don’t want to play they want to keep winning
and we don’t recall
what the occupy chorus was singing
obstructed by the drone
of unmanned air vehicles
that here and there
in certain zones
as it were where no one can reach
assassinate certain state enemies
when then our minds are firmly made up
and we our feeble moods entrust
to the newest self medication
or meditation
it behooves us to take a vacation
if in this frühling in the winter
the seasons aren’t fixed, they are free
they they’ve broken out
like a bonanza of clouds
as waste incinerator vapors
and bonus contrails
translate the regular sky panorama
into a vaudeville
when clouds have been described
in atlas and nomenclature
seasons in fairy tales and geography
it behooves us to pluck
the collected prey away
before the hardnecked harvard geniuses
trade them for every little cumulus kiss