Purgatory bar

At the purgatory bar leaning at the counter

a few angels of ill repute ,

taken from old crime series 

smoke lucky strikes ...

 The jukebox blasting village people .

At the purgatory bar ,

souls who have earned  neither reward 

nor punishment ,gather ...

 Poets praised by their goldfish 

pay for one last round ,

throwing a few bad rhymes 

to the audience of eternity ...

A lonely girl rolls confused memories 

around in her Schizo tempo

and invites me to take a  talk 

in her looney  head .

 I remember one day,

exploring her lunar curves .

She was just a tourist 

in the world of the living ...

The next day,about noon ,

she fell in love with a noose ,

leaving me a  soap bubble

memory ...

 Vodka for everyone 

and Russian roulette 

for the poors in spirit ! 

we're just legless pawns 

running on a rigged chessboard .

At the purgatory bar we wait 

for closing time that will never come...

Are we forced to look for a sign 

in the sins of others ?

 Born under the star of the jack of spades

paradise isn't for mads ! 

And hell doesn't take losers 

for its bonfire !

They never knew what to do with me...

I was a bird bumping against the wind .

In my journal I write down 

moment of despair  

when dinos disappeared overnight ...

Last  ember damaged by life 

that offers itself to nothingness.

Marylin left on Hemingway's arm.

At the purgatory bar no one knows

what time the dream awakens...

 Night in white satin whispers the jukebox .

  O shiva offers incarnation to the shadows !

    Final glass  of sorrow ...

And restore to me 

this delicious taste of suffering ...