What will the day look like
when there is only
one vw bug left
in a collection in Stuttgart
or so it's rumored
When will stuff disappear?
That day will come when all
those damn Bugs are gone.
Will there be personal planes
for all of us
or teleportation?
No tress left?
Most of the world
goat herders,
again?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'd never step into a teleporter. I'd be afraid I'd be vaporized and what came out would be a mere copy. Good poem.