The Randomness of things
is inexcusable

How randomly we meet
and part our ways

We fall apart
estranged from what we loved

For no reason at all
and no governing rules

Fresh meat becomes
Leftovers of tomorrow

Fresh love is turned
into a surge of pain

The randomness of days
is inexcusable

How randomly the night
steals us away

And never to return
from its mysterious depth

our eyes
get adjusted to the dark

Deceived in men
and seeking
no revenge

Pleasure machine betrayed
by hypocrisy´s hounds

their howling hordes
come knocking on my door

crushed in the mud
like flies
or summer pests

by men mediocre
and their willing slaves

After they tasted the fruit
to hear them swear
"she was a temptress"

to see the fundamental lie
and feel no need
to protest
innocence

This imperfect me
a pleasure machine

a bait for chameleons
liars and a thief

waiting by the phone

waiting by the door
the boy with the skatebooard
like salmon
race against the slant

Pass by a black woman
with her plastic bags
full of empty bottles
plans her drunken feast

the boy with the skateboard
asks me
"what are you waiting for?"
and I have no answer

She´s back now
the bottles are full
she smokes and shakes her ***
like an old worn horse

We will all get drunk
and wash away another year