two discreet ice cubes

half a glass and i can feel already the dry gin kicking in
a soft relaxation i mean to keep on building up tonite

it’s been a few years since i’ve realized i’m quite found of noises
i’d like a twenty minutes song only with the sea rumbling
and the wind blowing
and ice cubes moving inside a half filled glass

two
discreet
ice cubes

i’d like some alcohol in that glass
i’m not certain it changes the noise
but one must be sure

i’d like (of course) mermaids in that sea
i don’t think they’re there
but one must wonder

i’d also like that wind to carry me
i’m far too heavy
but one must dream

i could stop it right there and it would work
i guess
but that’s not my plan

if you don’t know my plan by now i’m sorry to inform you
you cannot read

i ran out of fuel and must fill my glass once more
please
wait for me as i reach for the kitchen
it won’t last more than a line falling

i’m writing, therefore i am again

though i never had anything to say tonite
i came back with this feeling i forgot it
this is must disturbing
my fingers
they are alive

among this huge universe of things
you don’t understand
or would care to explore
how do you divide
what you despise
and what you praise?

it amazes me

if i was Picasso, would you say that i’m divine?

if i was Da Vinci, you would read me with care?
would you wonder, if my name now was Van Gogh?

if Van Gogh was your neighbor
chances are you’d mock him
or hate him
and so forth...

yet
it still won’t make you wonder

i think of this a lot
any of them
think of Socrates
everybody around him
against him
and he wouldn’t defend himself
that’s fucking noble
still
people around him
all against him
and they said:
“take this poison, motherfucker”
and he did
he wouldn’t play the game
i imagine him thinking
“bunch of morons
better to drink this shit
than to play their game”

i look at people around me
it’s funny
you say Socrates and they clap hands
you say Britney Spears
or any other name that will soon be forgotten
and they make urgh faces
they make eek faces
and so forth

they’re actors, you see?

a Britney Spears shadow crosses the street
they follow it

a Socrates shadow crosses the street
if they see it
oh, boy, you know what they do

you know what they say
and you know what they do

try to be kind yourself
or intelligent
it’s the easiest way to outcastness
and hate

if jesus was real
you’d be all smiling
at the cross

“that’s what you get
carpenter motherfucker”

or wouldn’t you?
would you really go against the grain?

“anti-fashion seems to be fashion too by now”

maybe you think you would

it’s very easy to solve
ask yourself
“do people hate me”

if they do
i’d believe you

if they do
maybe you’re right

i’m tired of writing
actually

i don’t even know what i’m saying anymore
makes me feel good
all according to plan

i feel happy
actually

i feel happy
and a couple
of glasses
of gin