This is not a poetry reading. This poetry reading is not sponsored by Jeff Bezos because he prefers stocks to human beings. I am not a poet. I am not a Christian. I smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol. I like the colour blue and pink and black. I paint my nails and let my hair grow. Urban pigeons disgust me, but not more than television. Stop wars and help the planet and women and homosexuals and hate nazis and Trump. I don’t have a middle name. I am a sinner and an idiot and this is not a poetry reading.
The poems I will read now were all written by me. All attempts of forgery will be met with blackmail and physical assault.
ALFA
moths are hard-wired to kill themselves
evolution has forgotten about them
attracted to light
that kills them
quick reproduction period
they would be alfa species
alongside locusts
and they’ve got faces
we’ve got faces too
and we live to die
and get energy from the sun
and we’re a mistake
and we dominated the planet
like locusts
but it’s just so much harder
to get laid
THE INEVITABLE END OF A CASUAL PHILOSOPHICAL DEBATE IN A CAFÉ
i understand
yup
i see
yhm, i get that
but would you say you are a happy person?
i wouldn’t know one
without the other
but i do think it must be sad
to be a person that can be described with one word
even if that one word is:
happy
COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW
life ain’t so colourful
they told me
when i got over-excited over
future
but they don’t see that, hell,
it is!
it’s just that
the colours are
baby-blue sky
blood-orange sunset
deep ultramarine sea
light-green leaves when the beams go through
but also
greenish-brown diarrhea of an infant
black dirt on a soldier’s face
grey mid-autumn clouds
pale creamy of a stillborn
bleaking crimson of cigarette burns on skin
life abounds in all colours
we only get them in
different proportions
there are no better or worse
no good or evil
duality isn’t real
but still i hope
that i will see
the beautiful ones
most of the times
THE WANDERINGS OF A RESTLESS MIND
one for the road
and let’s hit it
the car window was open
cold wind on my face
he dropped me off
shortly after 6 a.m.
i lay in bed
listening to music
i didn’t want it to stop at all
i wanted to feel the beat
walk a bit
do something
three hours in bed i was
with my eyes closed
but my head open and
running around
straight lines wound me up
one for the road
wasn’t a good idea
after all
i used to feel bad about it
not sleeping
not eating
not doing too much
these thoughts still come
i notice them
acknowledge
and let them go
everything’s for people
my dad would say
and i’m a person
so i’ll just lay
could’ve been worse
at least it was fun
from time to time
now for weeks i’m done
a break for kicks of other things
booze and nicotine.
leave the devil’s powder
let it rot in somebody else’s head
I GET PARANOID
in my bed
when everybody else sleeps
in the house
i lay
and listen
to myself
the voices
and other sounds
twice i thought
that somebody was in the house
an alien
unknown person
lurking to murder
and to steal
and then run away
i was still
listening
waiting for the bastard to come and get me
i imagined even
fighting him
one of us would come
dead or alive
he never came though
and i’m still alive
so i guess
i won
This was not a poetry reading and you have just been robbed of $50 from your mother’s bank account. Donate to a local charity and skip breakfast. Have a great day, please don’t call me. I know where you live.
