The Way to Hurray City

As sudden as suddenly the sunlight drops.
A series of raging thunder.
Then the light plops on again.
Off in the distance, roars, and rumbles. Sounds.

We're in a helicopter
of folded silk paper
seeing a cavalcade
being flanked by stealthy
snow leopards.

Formations of tittering turtledoves
skim with nosedives in and out and in.
Pimple-young adonises are lugging
crackling Easter candles, as thick as a wrist.
In the gutters: jumping roller skaters
flaunt their deadpan pirate flags.

The Symphonic Orchestra of the Belgian Nation
skipping forth, performs “Let's spend the night together”
on whistles of referees.
Constantly multiplying tribes of Bonobos
are leading by example.
The plural-flabby Buddha performs
dazzling acts
with tiny meatballs.

Majorettes with striking gloat
are waving lengthy pencils.
Red beard monkeys run to and fro
along the necks of sleepwalking giraffes.

Unemployed circus clowns blow
the noses of the spectators.
Hundreds of centipedes step up their efforts.
Clouds as slow as snails create
the word “cirrocumuli”.

Patients with Alzheimer's get bunches
of forget-me-nots crammed in sods.
The Belfort is tap-dancing.

At intersections molehills massively
rear their heads.
Toy trolleys carry beetles
to spring.
Punks unpack
pink cockscombs
that tickle the stars.

Parachutes descend with coffins
stuffed with scratchy locusts.
413 heartbreakers get arrested
their loots are allocated to the heartless.

Ballerinas sky-glide, art-dive
at the swing-rock
of Brandenburg Concerto No. 3.
Upon submission of a traffic fine
one receives
two crispy roasted snowflakes.

Under the green-spotted sky
the golden sun is gleaming on
a guy of the symphonic wind band
snorts a solo on the bombardon.

A broadloom palette
of animals presumed extinct
appears proudly on the scene.

Because of the water fun
of a thousand dozens
assembled dolphins
the North sea overflows its banks.

Gold carrying vessels sunk centuries ago
surface all around the world
in many places.