Extract from: THE LANGUAGE OF THIEVES AND VAGABONDS

Palm trees and other worldly suns
Sit in the palm of my hand.
Can you slip through my fingers
Like the sands of time?

Twitching shoulders let the globe drop at my feet and the animals in the zoo weep with sadness. The jackals push their mental accelerators to the metal and plastic tombs rise in their eyes, but I won’t cry anymore for there is more to life than this.

They raise their nostrils and smell the sex that everybody wants but cannot touch.

Paper boats and Cuban cigars tell no stories at the riverbank
The fuckers hang up on you every time
Levi’s fit the bill but to live and die in Levi’s is not the greatest crime.
Open your eyes for while we are busy dying, another world still turns in our heads.