The musician

I am a disconnected musician weaving slighty faded tunes 

that make the dunes of my flatland yawn...

 Violonist without genius ,

his head in Neptune's bad mood...

Poor Pierrot, you the butt of the Parisian 

parrot's jokes ...

At night I cast my pitiful appareance ,

improvising  insane beer and blues ...

The ''Grand -place '' bring us back to futility

and I go to sleep pretending to dream...

  Maybe tomorrow the king  of jerks 

will be crowned ...

 I am an autistic pianist who couldn't care less

about anything the lord says...

 I scribble down whimsical inspirations 

sprinkled with tangy drops ...

 A blue night lady is waiting for me

in a Flemish '' In- between '' .

We make love as part of a daily routine 

before taking communion with boredom .

I smashed my guitar in a childish fit of anger.

 I thought I was Jimi Hendrix ...

  But in the 60s I was a hope in a womb 

that dreamed at Grace Kelly and at dawn  

would take the tram 30 heading toward my misfortune...

There was a taste of days gone by that was about

 to fade away in the euro-illusion collapse...

 A tribe of primitive punks from the lost dimension,

made of dinosaur leather have descended  

on the Brussel's pettinesse delusion ...

 I am just a failed duke Armstrong drawing parodies

of desires on  walled streets...

 Godsend for the hanged who wake up with a poker face !

  The midnight dealer knocks always twice 

and weary flutes accompanies the hearse joyful entry ...

 Turns the ferris wheel but the clouds aren't afraid of gidinness...

 Jerries have left by taking all the pralines .

Japs are eating Belgian fries thinking they're french...

  I am in the outback of the nowhere .

Wrecked musician from a no-country 

who keeps on living as if the world still existed ....