This black hole is a mouth
that will engulf me
in its drooling pulp .
A whirlwind of venimous colors
sweeps me away ...
Projected into a grimacing
quasar equation of demented
modeling clay ...
At the speed of thought
aghast god watches me go
at the crossroad of all dimensions..
Turning the pages of hundred billions
reclused souls ...
I come out of an opiate dream
that dictates my will and way .
In the drift of this attic
a ghost dog sleeps by a heatless fire place.
With a bad rhyme I chase this fluffy thing away,
reminiscent of childhood ...
I hate dogs and kids .
Through the dirty glazing
a livid skull looks out
over a landscape of roofs
drowned in a misery of steaming manure...
In this tuberculosis setting
shattered by a touch of modernity ...
A whore is waiting for me
at the epidemic street corner ,
by the hour of curse poet ...
Mired in the swamps of the century ,
I\'m gonna die old and alone ,
coming out of a black hole...