THE LOST TAPES Vol.34

   Back to school
   Meeting an old friend
   Though he looks 15

***

   “mirror, mirror on the wall
    who’s the fairest of them all?”
fucking robotics projects giving me nightmares

***

“Tem um sofazão ali. Bora deitar?”

***

Daddy’s got an Iron Maiden shirt
and a cozy leather jacket
Little kid jumping up and down in the rain
to the dirty sludge doom playing

***

Pissing on the church
Spitting on the church
Punching on the church
Barfing on the church

We talk, we do it
True religion rockers
Fuck your god

***

group of schoolgirls eyeing me
bet they’re talking about how hot i am

***

She had done acid last night
and danced like Charlie Brown to Teenage Riot
also sucked a lot of dick for five bucks a piece
She has huge dark circles under the eyes
talking gibberish, fails to give the cop an explanation
Awake for days, stealing a grocery store

***

Though I don’t show a smile
I’m not sad, not necessarily
As fine as can be, really
You’re not bothering when asking
“how are you?”

***

Maybe recognizing your characters in the street?
Come up to someone and say
“Hey, you would do a great withered pariah
I love the tone of your skin and
how miserable you’d look (crying) in a Chanel night gown.
Your greasy hair spread on tile.
Shots of you on the window, finger gun,
pretending to kill Kennedy.
I bet you a Sonic Youth shirt that
with the right atitude and a camera
I can make you feel like James Bond.”

***

Walkin
Tricot magazine lying on the ground
Decaying, barely readable
Open at a guide on how to make ponchos

Good old lady
Retired from the nightclubbing
Welcomes me to her home
Wearing a red poncho

I go home, open up the laptop
First ad I see
Is a beautiful gray poncho
On sale

***

I should be happy
Then, why do I feel so miserable?
So rotten inside
Outside too, a little
Kind of wanting to just
Throw myself to the pigs
To the bed, or the sofa
Get up from the floor
Own up to my achievements
Feel realized, hopeful
Or at least not so miserable|
|
Comfort is nowhere to be found
But on the floor
Hugging a bottle of Jack

***

maybe today i’m more for the visual
little too tired to move a pencil
but shaky enough to hold a camera

***

homeless man rolling up a lit cigarette
burns the tip of his fingers

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE LOST TAPES Vol.49: ruination in foreign terror

plucked rose petals laid in a little glass coffin a trapped soul forced to nature's course the soft aroma of a beautiful flower   *** marriage on sight expected pregnancy lulling her days rolling on the couch whore by nature but for what?   ***    In a small, protestant little church    Five congregants and a minimal band    Dad’s on guitar, she plays the drums set    Black hair, black eyes, black nails    Thin, black sweater under a pentagram charm    Her black lips sigh, begging for a smoke    It’s a cold, depressing Sunday night    But at least she’s getting paid   Tourists don’t come around here Smoking pot, sitting on dead leaves We’ve broken all the lamps It’s been two months, nobody noticed The new piercing, tattoos, scars A black eye waiting to happen Half a bible, rolling joints Throwing rocks at the sewer creek Not a sound in the streets downtown but the winds whistling through empty alleys and an occasional small splash because there are no big rocks left   You don’t wan
Read more

Just another special day

    A birthday like any other    as special as they come    Woke up with the flu    now I can’t do the laundry    Drink my tea, avoid coffee    Maybe roomie will come at noon -  Gotta clean all this poo    and pee, special Betsy    At least someone is happy to see me      Mom remembered, like every year    Gave me the same line as always    Same I’ve heard over 21 times now    Didn’t answer my call, nobody did    Nobody so far, to wake me up at midnight    shake my shoulders and say...    It’s 8a.m. on a Saturday and my bones hurt      Too weak for chores    too sick for ice cream    Dog ate the modem cord     “Lie in bed all day    cartoons will take you away    from this world of chest pains    and misery and oblivion”    But my back hurts, 1800 hours    Nobody else is home and I’m crying    Needed out of there    Went out to smell a cigar    and the cold winds of a wintry weekend    But the drunk kids were laughing at me    Sitting alone, at the empty park    My head hurts, my eyes
Read more

THE LOST TAPES Vol.50: nothing special

Memories can be so faulty When you are drunk all the time Month-long trip feels like it never happened What am I doing with my life? Booze and molly Snorting ashes of the deceased Throwing up bloody foam into the toilet What good is  this life? Pluck out the party stopper Let’s pee on somebody’s porch Rain terror upon this land Let us pull our brains out Kill the first breathing thing we see Break lamps and church windows Suck each other off in the middle of the street I don’t owe this place two fucks You shouldn’t either So, let’s seize the night Only the sun can stop us now But before then Our throats will be wide open   *** paracetamol cup noodles cachaça hoje tem   ***    A walk in the park    Dog socializes more than me    with the grumpy-looking men    sitting alone    on uncomfortable wooden benches   ***     “yeah, vivian, you ate two full plates of food” vivian said to herself   *** In a constantly changing reality and a city that so fearlessly advances what is a year when you
Read more