sometimes i'm bewildered by
the fact that i can roll tobacco
like a habana native rolls
a cigare for export -
     i think that would be my dream
"menial" mechanical line
of work,
         rolling cigarettes...
tried to teach this english lass
once, climbing across a fence from
a darkened park...
    eh... didn't work:
   but we did find her friend,
    lying stiff, almost dead on
the pavement after they had
an argument...
                    and the black cat...
god...
             when i put my jumper onto
her to keep her from shivering,
flicking the roof of her cap
asking: alright?
              it's as if seeing a snowman
melt...
    i sometimes forget that
there are people... not exactly
                                  6ft1 proportions...
oh ****... rolling cigarettes?!
   ah, ****, the industry is mechanised:
no foreign saliva necessary
             to glue the "parchment"...
so one for myself then,
  and the memory cinema...
   akin to that memory, just described...
don't worry, they finally got home,
after i interacted with
her father over the phone
(when i still hand one) -
    she took a "selfie"
              just when her black cabbie
father drove to the bus-stop...
come to think of it...
    besides my youth...
   i can only remember 4 girls taking
a picture of me...
    
    hebrī: panie -
         r(ye) = the macron above
  the iota -
     no wonder the past few nights have
been "weird":
   sniffing a belt without a buckle,
  wrapping it around my right arm
thinking of a boxing glove,
when in fact i was unconscious
  imitating the practice of tefillah...

ha ha...
    a 15 year old girl suddenly drowning
in a borrowed jumper
  to stop her shivering
   while being escorted home...
much like a dolphin "laughing"
of a seal giving applause for herring...

that's not the point:
    i really could roll you a decent cigarette,
almost like a shamanic ritual
encounter...
        you roll the perfect diameter,  
**** at the **** of the filter to check
for the proper air flow,
   then fiddle around with the shaft...
gently heat the shaft with a lighter
   to dry the wet tobacco a little...
   then wait...
    get an idea...

"my" people? sorry, my generation?!
surely we can
   have our martyr...

      aaaaaaaah.... jim morrison...
we've had these people,
     james dean: sure but we have a clone
replica in the form of james franco...
only one contender...
   no, not: kurt cobain...
                         heath ledger!    
that's me ******* golfballs standing
over his grave, trying to say:
                                             fore!