Post Modern Poetry


	I know that I know nothing.
	I cannot conceive a thing
	And do not know, I might.

  The grassroots call for a new media
  To get social surroundings greening!
  But the old, indigenious bonzen reply:
  'Don't change, what's working.'
  The next stars promise brighter sights.
  Who can build a media to travel there?
  But the old, indigenious experts reply:
  'We are still real busy working.'

  Desert dust in the upper atmosphere
  Does not carry any mineral traces.
  The sharp crow scents across the grass:
	'I, the post modern poet,
  Do not sing about life's capabilities,
  Disappointed, certain of my smallness,
	But I do not know why.'





Udo Frentzen 2017