Last Call

Resting on the pavement –
A cigarette and enough time
to look at a star up high,
the brightest;
a radiant fireball dripping splendor,
an omen.

Perhaps I should go into this bar…
This binge started at some other bar, I’m sure.

I’m spinning on the bar stool, nauseous,
looking around.

Two wine glasses dreaming of eternity;
a couple of tequila shots living carpe diem;
twin beer pints promising never to tell;
and, amid the racket, my tears.

The star’s a pale complexion with vivacious features,
with pronounced charms and grace,
and with a stare,
a stare that could divert Cupid’s arrow

She gets up – supple waist –
And comes my way.
A swarm of pelicans take flight inside of me.
She stands before me.
Venus holds my hand,
opens her mouth…
Nothing comes out and I understand it all.

Breathe Death on a Sunny Day

Breathe death on a sunny day.
My friend and fellow sufferer, come down the stairway
and stop teasing me.

Let’s go to a bar and drink
now –
before the sunset,
before the happy hour,
and before the automatons drink their way back to humanity.

Let’s eat from the same plate
and make love to the same woman.
Let’s make use of this intermission!
Give me your permission
to set your temple of worship on fire
so that I let you demolish mine.

Breathe death on a sunny day, love.
Breathe death right now
and gently
seize the means of destruction
and make the best out of this life.

These are the moments;
no extras or bonuses.
Let the silent motivational speaker guide you.
Let Thanatos drive you.