skyscrapers touch with their narcissistic needles
the fake, pale american sky
they stab him with their sharp needles
and the sky begins to cry
and we call those teardrops "rain"
we call the teardrops "rain"
we call them "rain"

oh liquid moment
oh vain metropolis out of hope
oh slippery, slippery *****

baptise me again
into your soft oblivion

my cat knows something
when she stares at the white wall
moving her head right and left
where there is nothing at all

(for me)

sometimes a note
is
no note
at all