When,
there is nothing more
to do,
but
not everything
is lost,
gliding with
lost gaze.
Squeeze
Life
hard
from the neck,
between your hands.
When
everything
must be done
but almost
everything
is already lost,
pedaling with
excited nature.
Life is
who tights
hard
your neck
between his claws.
I pedal on
tepid asphalt
skies smelt
in igneous neon
"Many people
would say:
That is god"
I spit
"Myself will assert it"
swears a woman
dressed in
her dry wrinkles.
I glide on
the sticky patina
there is no better way
to be sheltered
by flickering,
smoke,
cheap aroma
of casinos.
The last Villon
romping in oblivious filth
ensures me a shitty
advice
for one
peso.
Gladly
I agree,
it is one of the best
offers within hand's reach
in a few miles around.
-Get rid of those brakes
you would not need them,
to reach Hell
is better to go
fleet-
I pedal
on infinite
dust
over my own
wide spot
on the road.
No doubt,
it is the best
shitty advice
I have never
heard before
in my whole
life.
