miércoles, 25 de febrero de 2015


she's gone for the night
gave me a big hug
let me a weird pain below my eyes
somewhere underneath the skin
between the forehead and the neck
full of paintings with
lonely dogs waiting in the outside of
and big red slaughter houses
with their masters coming in
coming in

she’s gone to spend the night in someone else’s bed
someone else’s mother’s photo fading on the table
some old house
the chains you threw back at the gate are way to heavy
for your feather like back
babe and your small teeth and
your skin sweating by
someone else’s heater

abandoned gardens
cherry broken lollipops
middle aged women
middle age schools
35 red little red hearts you have just draw in my stack of yellow papers

someone stole my bike
and i walk everywhere now
and i ride the trains for free
taking a lot of coins in the back of my jeans
just in case
the ravens come to get rid of their women
and their jobs
and their tasteless mouths
that are winding and narrow
and all frozen up in the veins of the past
can you tell me if all that might be true?

your tea has evaporated from your glass
like a springtime mist
like yesterdays nightmare
like a goodbye note
all those small blinking lights goddesses
coming out of your mouth
and falling into the cup
for good
or for tonight