Now

 

 

for Edgar Allan Poe

 

and the post-Parnassian poets and my girlfriend and me

 

 

Me down in Θεσσαλονίκη

sittin on the back of a truck

whistling Psappho to myself,

you can tell I am suicidal

was it not for

 

the booze

 

and the ladies

 

offering sweet poison

 

on the wet petals

 

of their longing lips.

 

 

 

So, it is hard for me to come down,

 

but it is easy, too.

 

I am travelling North

 

to promised paradise.

 

 

 

Sittin on a back of a truck humming Ginsburg’s Sunflower Sutra to myself,

 

listening to Willie Dixon’s I am the blues

 

hungover whatever. I just indeed

 

fuckit, wanna make love to you now.

 

 

 

I am sinking in

 

maybe i overdid

 

the other stuff

 

 

 

 

 

you can tell I am suicidal

 

was it not for the booze

 

and the ladies

 

offering sweet poison

 

on the wet petals

 

of their longing lips.

 

 

 

So, it is hard for me to come down,

 

but it is easy, too.

 

I am travelling North

 

to promised paradise.

 

 

 

Sittin on a back of a truck humming Ginsburg’s Sunflower Sutra to myself,

 

listening to Willie Dixon’s I am the blues

 

hungover whatever. I just indeed

 

fuckit, wanna make love to you now.

 

 

 

I am sinking in

 

maybe i overdid

 

the other stuff

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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