I have a room. 

Nothing more and yes a shithole. 

It gets a fascinating sun but with cage like shadows over it. 

I have a silver coloured enigmatic music players…with a flying sense of humor, 

I play songs there… 

Lalon was the man, he had the balls to take the art to it’s chin, 

He was the man for my three cubes of ice in my darling whiskey. 

A computer with so many wires of binary masterbation was there, 

Ah! The world of cubrick, the world of Scorsese, the world of hard fucking Ray, 

Magician, a Jamaican cocktail of green fields and a criminal alley with spiritual whores. 

A neo noire afternoon to feel for. 

I am trying for last twenty five years to live here…

and so far I have just tasted baked eternity,           

and finger licking flames are still to be served. 

My poems bloom from the celling and my cinematic insanity rush from the Berlin Wall by my window. 

And with lot of bloody effort and free falling money…I have an engineer in me. 

And every night after jerking off I read relativity theory with stars in my eyes. 

A mess as my lullaby, a filthy entity of space for my sex bed, a symphonic night of falling leaves. 

I am not stopping anywhere soon.