going to sleep already with morning breath
because time is a circle drawn by a drunk
and my body has declared itself an autonomous collective
voting against the tyranny of basic hygiene
this is the ultimate expression of freedom
to taste tomorrow's decay in yesterday's mouth
while the universe expands like a yawn
and somewhere in Lisbon a statue is questioning
its commitment to permanence
I have become the architect of my own deterioration
building empires of unwashed sheets
and calling it a revolution against the orthodox passage of days
this is what the history books won't tell you:
every great civilization began
with someone too tired to brush their teeth