"Written Word" (January 2003) - translated from Polish.

Nine ice cubes on a wooden table
In the vast shade of the winter sun
Crystal ashtrays and empty brown bottles
Inactivity
The chair gives way under my weight
I don't know if I weigh
The armchair knows (more than I do, I assure you)
Non-existence
The empty space of my skull
Echo in the tunnel, echo of emptiness in absolute emptiness
An echo of emptiness among rocky cold walls
Unreal spaces filled with the echo of emptiness
Imagine the echo of emptiness
Imagine a mirror meeting a mirror
What do these mirrors see?

Imagine nothingness
Imagine glass and smoke rings
Black, impenetrable stone circles
Imagine the landscapes of nothingness
Senseless thoughts and images from distant times
Songs of the Lost Bards
Madmen, geniuses, refugees
Imagine their mind creating better worlds
Turned into a nightmare, filled with echoes of emptiness
Imagine the endless regret and melancholy of the morning
Imagine their eyes - their expression
Ice cubes, needles, cellophane - whatever...
And imagine the hunger...
A cynical, decadent, serpent mind that was once beautiful
Imagine the day of creation - then the sound barriers
Immaculate vibrations of destruction
Imagine nothingness, imagine its bards
Imagine eternal winter burning your mind and soul
Ivy in your veins...
Free...
Empty...

The void is unborn
The void does not pass away
When you know emptiness
You will not be different from her
I want to know the void

I am the human obscene...