Unwanted pregnancy of a destiny
that has found only forbidden sens
along a opium addict way .
All that remains is a flyer
in the bitter wind of nowhere.
I close the book ,
That ends with no regrets
and pour myself a glass of Bourbon.
Leaving leprose writers to flower
the great cimeteries on the moon ,
fart jugglers whose bubbles
mock your sublime !
The little cat is dead
it won\'t play with shades anymore...
Why stay whining on Wendy\'s grave?
Peter pan will never return ...
I have not found favor and honor
in the eyes of Jehovah or even Krishna
and the local imam deems me haram...
In the here after waters the social contract
is always chasing you !
god who doesn\'t exist is of no comfort to me.
We run on a rat\'s diagonal
toward illusion of cheese ...
A gothic flute player
takes me to the doomed rodent kingdom,
with such a sweet pater noster lament ,
by way of derisory testament ...
Miserere so are we .