J. P. MORGAN ROSTCHILD

by Tibor Hrs Pandur


J. P. MORGAN ROSTCHILD

Madmen gather
In the end in an abandoned factory
They conspire to go to Heaven
Their ancestors opened it up on cramps
Through production belts
Now they don’t assume positions

 

“Dialogue is dead. Dialogue is dead”

He repeated as he lost himself

“Am I a tight fist, when I should be a Marxist?”

“The best thing about a capitalist, when he wants to be an optimist
Is, that he isn’t … one.”
“Maybe you’re right”
 

He observes

We wander
Who are we? What are we?
Corpses from a pile of corpses rule

From "Internal Affairs"; Translated by Jasmin B. Frelih, THP & Jeffrey Young

J. P. MORGAN ROSTCHILD

Norci se zbirajo

Na koncu v zapuščeni tovarni 
Konspirirajo, da bi šli v nebesa
Predniki so si jih po tekočem traku 
Odprli v puščavi na krče
Zdaj ne grejo na postaje


»Dialog je mrtev. Dialog je mrtev«

Ponavlja, ko se zgubi ...

»Sem skopuh, ko naj bi bil socialist?«

»Najboljše pri skopuhu, ki hoče bit optimist, je, da to ni.« 
»Maybe you’re right ...«


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