This allergic world doesn’t believe a person in between his one drink and his third… 

I have never seen hypocrisy inside hallucinations. 

All my forgotten ladies are caressing their lyrical breasts and howling…

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah…!

And this stupid soul kicking the roads which went ahead the woods… 

Nirvana…nirvana with tunes, nirvana with lights…the infuriating lights of those with godspeeds…and nirvana inside a vagina. 

Somebody threw a poem at me and my spirit disoriented…it was my vivisection between a bull fight and a lost kid.

I am all done with these runnings now…I am gonna sit on my chair…look at girls inhaling my eulogy…

There will be a old poet obviously…from the times of old rock and roll…he would roll marijuana and hang lamps outside a maple tree. 

Death always had the potentiality of being your unquestionable and timid love interest. 

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