quarta-feira, 29 de julho de 2009

Wolf's Perfume

There was a time of childish thoughts and lies...
There once was a moment of being my father's son.
Someone right in the middle between mother and brother...
Now I have this dangerous perfume of wolf,
in my Sheep's Old Prada.
Now I have my wine thrown above my head,
now I have my night.
My empty screen of chance...
My blinking cursor. My "other side".
My death number 101! My rebirth number 102!
My every-other-deep-smile.
My Champagne! My stupid morning after!
A fool's moon! A distant friend...

A drunk poet...

An everlasting run around on my keyboard.

A "last call!" before bed.

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