Today I woke up for finding out the sunrise would be at 7:48am
Isn't that great? Even the dearest lamb got late
And for that I stayed in underwear, dancing alone on the haunted room
Dragging my feet over all the dirt and broken tiles until I got enough
To touch the switch and let the electricity shock me a little
the world and its mean people
Do not get me impressed anymore.
Mediocrity is the new sexy, baby
Chasing money to freedom
We all dress to get undressed
Forever expires in 6 months
And society became as liquid
As my Fireball.
Blue agave, premium turf, chardonnay
Cheap moonshine too.
Art can only be conceived by sexual intercourse
Between will and hope
And when they fuck, oh boy I gotta tell ya
Pretty twins are born
And their names are laze and despair.
My truck looks like me
I see those halfway tires and I can see my legs
Broken, hurt, tired columns of bones and muscles that sustains me
But somebody can tell that my truck has more wheels than I have got legs However
Sometimes life puts me on all fours. Degrading, but still rolling.
My truck looks like me
With two doors that open anytime to let people in
Just like my arms were made to hug.
My truck has a broken grill and it has some semblance of my nose. Strong steel, but plastic too. My truck is not the stiffest
Because neither am I
And I guess neither are you.
My truck has only two seats although a third
short timed companion
can fit in.
My truck looks like me with its multiple colors. It is red
But gray, also white with its shades.
My truck needs work and it clearly speaks about me
Whose interior craves cleaning.
Naturally it sounds loud. My truck snores and I rev up.
We are both old and it doesn't cost a dime to treat it right.
Oil change and water where it must. Some things work better if wet
And the valves, oh the valves!
like my heart, endless pumping of fluids.
Can you feel it? A robust flow
They come and go
through arteries and tissues.
Machines will fail, exhaust will fart.
And the mind will have issues.
But a pipe ages and when it does it drips.
Steering can get loose. In the morning a kick start.
Ungovernable? We both can act like pricks.
But nothing can stop, not even clutch leaks
A great and solid engine V6.
There are ashes around my bed and the song playing does not fit the situation Am I mad? Am I lazy? Am I a single powerless piece of human labor exploitation? Whistle, ladies and gentleman, because I've come to let you know what is inside and its origin from. A pumping heart means chemistry in action and that is exactly what we don't have, baby
One is anxious and boredom is a Hungry ghost For entertainment it offers Politics For wisdom it has Short quotes You may mock just for fun Once happiness comes With hard thumbs up Or double ephemeral taps Only fans knows the real deal Which means to be Viewed And noted And monetized But never touched Crypto fucking stockings algorithm monitored cookies! Dark Pretentious waters Realm of appearance Into the madhouse the same jiggle Of butts And on the dance floor shallowness chokes sanity Is it faking contagious? Is it foolishness airborne? When your screen is off All you see Is you
There are bottles and food containers and everything is empty
over the counter
because nothing in the house is brand new.
All the liquor is gone through the air in a long process of
I get to think that if my brain was not enclosed by the skull
I would see it going the same way into the air
and then condensate in the ceiling forming some grey impregnated
matter which actually does not matter to most
once that what it does is overthink
and judge others’ music taste.
I’ll be damned if I get to accept what they call music nowadays
with all that electronical predictable bip bips.
They call me an old soul
I can keep my mouth shut when everybody else is talking nonsense.
what a great spectacle it is to live among my peers.
Tonight I will not pray, I will not say any profanity
but I will be once again glad for the chance
to call this