Maisson D'littre
John Hussaarts
Rubble on the floor
The whiff of has-been and decay
Makes your hands stick to the doors
Sick up to your eyebrows… say
Tunnel vision in a land of waste
Digging on the way to the light
The risk of caving in
Too strong too mighty
People say ‘at this rate’
He might live up to become ninety
Scabs on the skin
Where the tattoos have been
Welcome in the house
Where there’s no place to sit
There’s one spot left
Where it’s not so dirty
If you turn your glass a bit
Avoid eternity