How long…

How long are going to stay angry

You get up in the morning

pissed at the world; you frown

at the flowers and get wild at the

Sun.

 

Been reading too long,

too many books,

too much desperation

too many poets

 

CRAZY as a Hurricane.

 

Going to lay down with Buddha

Going to make love to Jesus

Going to dance with Rumi

 

Its a fact , anger gives you

cancer, makes you a twisted sister.

 

Tired I stand at the shore of your

wild cunt ready to drown.

 

 

Born to fuck

I kept talking about love

but she talked of Henry Miller,

The Song of Songs, and the

Marquis de Sade

still I kept talking about

love but she talked of

erotica but I kept talking

about love, she was Mexican,

a Cundera, a healer,

she said , you should

take the Mother ayahuasca ,

it will help you

but I kept talking about

love and that scared her,

in reality I didn’t want love,

I wanted her cunt, and I

realised I was born to fuck,

just like her.

If I was..

If I was Neruda

I would eat your sweet rose

 

If I was Borges

I would paint your imagination

 

If I was Lorca

I would celebrate your body

 

But I am non of these

just a simple poet

 

who dreams of a girl

in a distant land

 

where eagles fly over the Yucatan,

and ayahuasca is swallowed in Iquitos,

 

looking for that perfect Yage,

the perfect Blake to enter

your doors.

 

A dangerous pleasure

there is something dangerous

in the stranger staring at you

a particular type of excitement

floods your erotic zones

a dangerous pleasure

makes you swoon as the

train pulls into the station….