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