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96 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
I live in a city of blinds,O:
I wake up from life,
To fall asleep in light,
Can't open my blinds to the blind.
A blind man walks his blind dog,
To the left, the right,
Just enough to sense the light
And feel the warmth.
Even flowers, plotted in soil
Take in the light and live.
The blind man ignores the day.
He is immortal.
Death, a surprise.
A pen is but a pen,Pero después están estas cosas...
When the time has come
For its retirement.
A career is but a job,
Modern indentured servitude,
If not for the challenge
And dreams.
And a day is just a
Collection of hours,
If not for that one
Sparkling, coaxing,
Loving smile on your
Face.
Every time I fart, of late,O:
I feel the excretory juices of my
Feces,
Squishing and squashing between my
butt cheeks,
However I have no desire to wipe
my ass, anymore.
A metaphor?
Ostriches murmur in the sand,WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT??
Rhinos whine at night,
Owls growl at the night's tragic mood,
Spitting into the crevices of
The damned bastard moon.
And you baby,
you suck a good dick.