The embarrasing moment of being myself


Burnt eyelashes
albino tinto breakfast without a soul,
naked palm-tree
inpudic dead dancing.

All I see
but the kettle sprayed on the wall,
my heart is gone
my heart is gone

with the sad potato chips
back skin peeling off
wrist invader strain
enhancing cosmos



Photo by  Paulo Morais 


Meet my neighbour
she grabs my hand
and tells me about
her dumb-ass husband,
we plan his death
by poison.

A little table
looks like a spider.





 And better poets of the beat


About m)◘(x

ni! for now
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