A stroll

An ugly pair
He’s nervous she depressed
He’s playing with their two bottles of water
Presently conquering the space
Her hands are empty
Swaying around
Abandoned cobweb on a cracked window
Of a forsaken hut
They were in the city tonight
A bunch of glassy backgrounds
Reflected them back where they came from
Lack of resources to filter the image
To give them a moment
Proportions that fit
Is an insect easier to draw?
An ugly pair
He’s here she’s then
Swinging the arms to free himself from the net
She’s a butterfly squished
They’re walking the road is a swamp
He’s grabbing no eye craves for her
The road is a rapid and she’s floating
No eye pierces her with envy.
Unwanted place is demon fertiliser
Unwanted guest is action

Nina, Viktor, Giuseppe

I want to smoke all weed
Drink all wine
Fuck all beauty

I know I can’t fly
I see the ground laughs at my needs
It presents me as a worm
A squishy thing

But I must fight and I must search
The Internet and my window
There’s a web on my window
There’s a cold outside my window
And it’s open and the spider is still

I was with people tonight
Time bears subtlety
I’ve just sent a gif to you

Sitting with a pain
In my spine rolling another one
For the public
I prefer fluids
I read his poem on my friend’s mobile
Tonight
Yes I’m listening to Tosca
His picture on the screen
A fresh excavation
And we’ve all forgotten the beginning
What was before the beginning

Sun
Sea
Us
The green grazes the Sun
The Sun chews the mountain
The sea is blue sparkling white
At night all of me
Gather to mourn

Who ARE you, and an epitaph

Satan’s courier
But I know her
Lips said it only to get me up
To enchant me
But I was already
There, in eyes traumatised in velvet
Naming is demeaning
To the devil
I can’t
Dance, I sit down

If I were a volunteer
A believer in ladybugs and strawberries
I could’ve met that
Bouncy peasant and the gorgeous grin
Of her buttocks indicates
She’s a frequent traveller and we would share
Images and pictures, photos
Outside the club, of workshop destinations
Paysages, conference halls
I removed all exotic competition
From my album so she doesn’t
Feel she’s turning
Into a biscuit
If 3AM is this century’s midnight
What’s the witching hour
At moments her grin fades into a smile and I
Realise she could be a mother
I will compliment her dog

It’s dawn and as I’m lying on the wall
Satan’s courier and the bouncy peasant are
Dancing in a diluted club
Hotly but in an elegant, heroin chic manner
Awakening fusion
Their sweat is glitter my gaze
A homeless geezer in the park
As my eyes meet the eyes traumatised
Deeply, my eyelids my eyelashes issue an apology
For not being able
To be your dark prince.
I throw up, gently