You must sometimes build lands,
Which only future generations,
Will be able to build bridges to…
Many of my current thoughts,
Will have to be bridged,
To my contemporaries’,
And predecessors’,
By future bridge-builders,
Who float mid-way between us.
‘Semis’, I call them.*
Eight masturbations a day,
Keep distractions away.
No matter when I die,
I’ll be surrounded,
By many unfinished projects,
And far too undersexed,
For my taste.
My oft-volcanic inner happiness,
Is often my commercial curse,
As it renders me unwilling to compromise,
And eat any ‘necessary’ shit.
Receiving (female) blow- and rim-jobs,
Is my second favorite form of human communication,
Just behind the great composers’ masterpieces.
My main problem with monarchies is,
That every child is born,
Being told they are a subject –
Less than someone else…
Gives me the shivers, actually!
The potential pussy to be had by succeeding in mainstream cinema (which I can do in my sleep) is certainly a lure from my loftier projects, especially at moments prior to masturbation, and particularly when caught in public places, where these moments are inconveniently prolonged.
Italy 2019:
Top-shelf,
Paper-thin,
Beauty.
For many foreigners,
Every Nazi-free street corner in Berlin,
Is a pleasantly shocking experience.
Berlin 2012:
A dorky, hippie orgy,
On conquered concentration camps.