Salad Poetry and Salsa Dance

salad poetry & salsa-dance …thus riding on a memory-bicycle those people who used to go to pick up dry straws grasses twigs from the daily-payment of the squirrels are neither the husband of any wood nor the wife of any wood-apple...at the best ...they may be one page full of must-dos regarding keep- fit practice of one’s health… around the grazing field of the night-gowns in course of a long-journey by train one has to cross many grass-hopper-points one-piece of life is this in its daily walking to pick up the pebbles of which is the amplification of what the bodies of all prose and poems are touched with by the sunshine by the wind by the rain by the water it-may-be-for-you afternoon is running running is the people after the office-break running are the broken people the sullen public due to late-running of train before the darkness sets in on bare branches of the tree clusters of crows are running forward steps of the return-home people are running many invitations has been remained unattended … accumulating… accumulating… so much anger… many secret pains… tears… the life is running in the rows of the flying birds the life is running in the meat-houses… in the shopping-malls… in the churches… in the wheat-fields… running … running … running… salad poetry and salsa-dance are also running… in the letters of the alphabet… in the swarm of mosquitoes… from William Shakespeare to Rabindranath Thakur the sky is running … the air… the sunlight…