Projections

Making the journey

Through the city

Filled with cars and concrete

Dirty snow and drug addicts

In the dark corners

Slowly melting away

Leaving the gravel behind

A tired sun behind the clouds

Creating a tepid light

In late afternoon

Ensuring the cycle of life and death

The city break us down slowly

Piece by piece

Replacing and recreating

People and values

While the losers

Enacting people’s frustration

Projecting my their fear and

Frustration into the empty space

Hell Monday

This is a bad day

It is the Monday from

Hell, extracting your soul

Out of the societal machinery

You will soon be grind to powder

And eaten by the cows

Nobody loves you

And if they do they want you

To be loved to lobotomisation

As well

Kiss, kiss

Naked Boy

Being naked in the city

Is not that pleasant

Not in January

At least

My friend told me

I woke up one day

In a dark alley

And had to look

For my clothes

At least some

Rags or a plastic bag

To cover me

People laugh or ignored me

Eventually I manage to

Sneak in a take the subway

Home to my dreadful suburb

And just as the train passed

The bridge

I woke up soaked in sweat

Not a pleasant dream

But at least I know

What to do if I wake up

Naked in a dark alley

Bad Times

Dying city

Decaying city

Filled with rich filth

Destroying the mind and body

Slowly burning city

Falling apart at dusk

Armed men

Guarding cautiously and attaching their guns to their frail bodies

In case of other frail men trying to take what little gold

They might have

No cash has any worth any more

Only handouts of food and water

And of course the eternal metal

Shining so bright in our dirty hands