A Noble Mafia Man
I wander
in the gutter of life
Carrying my memory like an old canvas bag
Dripping angels
I collected in the past..
Leaving my lips in a metal cup
Like a dead log
For an old man
And I am a sparrow made of straw
Dreaming of a fish,
But the fat lorry
Which carries tears
Running
Down my cheek another time
Without brakes.
The cockroach I gave him two days
To die
He lied down hours ago on his back
Lifting his head a little bit
Towards the sky.
Maybe he wanted to whisper something to the angels
I will carry him in the air
Fascinated
By my giant size next to his
After that
I hang him on the back of that lorry
With a kiss
To his lover
And I come back
Like a noble mafia man
Just finished off his enemies
And dreaming now
of the fish.
