I think I may…


I think I may I wish
We all know the anchored religion
And all want the conceived literature
A thousand foreseen stories
That act our dreams
Context in rhythm
And approach the scenes
I’m talking of the invisible wind
That sculpts the waves on the surface
The wind passing the water
I reach my mind we have the “intelligent” age
Are the uniform the attention the signs
Are different and resemble the nature
I am new you knew me
But I reduced to images of changing
We are pleased it suits me
Registered childhood
Knocks at the door
Oblique melodrama thinks examples
The first door to the emotional colors
But it’s the century without emotions
We are storing information
I imitate I miss I borne
Except for the tendencies of a third dimension
Distorted powers to create possibilities
And machine for the necessity
We remote convalescence
Eager vigor specialists
It’s inherent of all communications
White trees at the bottom
Rainshine afternoons
Who is there to bloom at the talent of the trees
I want I achieve I say
Flute grain comrades
Provoke passes it’s the revolution
The montage of simultaneous abolitions
Theatre of abortions
I issue I exalt I play
Whisper a larger screen
Implant phrases in the room
A body with the hands of John
Legs of crowds and the head of David
Created Created
The man is Jesus
Shoot and zoom the Bible God
Arrived hotel lobby dogma
Proper historians to the hesitancy of the speaker
Brothers backwards
The forms that sound
Black and white
We appoint the streets
Alaleh Alamir
Oregon, 1980