Outside

Outside, a bleeding cold as I sneeze
nowhere –
I raise my arm to a taxi,
get ignored
the taxi crashes into a car
(the taxi driver will die two weeks later,
when he will get run over by a cyclist;
the taxi driver’s union won’t believe it’s just an accident –
they will attempt to assassinate the cyclist)
I walk on, squandering my strength,
a streetcat walks up to me; I pet it,
give it some money and go on –
an ambulance is speeding towards the accident scene,
(some tourists are taking pictures of the bleeding driver
of the second car as they watch him burn to death)
I get naked and walk on, I’m invisible anyway,
I laugh as a blind man runs into a tree
spastically –
(the blind man deserves no pity though,
he has more money than you or me)
in the middle of a shopping street, people
jazzing in and out of stores, I
masturbate
because I am so turned on
(a tourist who followed me taking pictures –
he will sell them online and make a fortune
but gets killed a year later – nobody will ever
really know why)
and I get back inside
cold yet satisfied.

/timpeltje

I’m yearning for change. Just four more days of this… I’m sure it’s all this mental instability that gets me from A to B, or say from Gent to Madrid, unwillingly from Madrid to Sydney, hopefully from Sydney to Melbourne, excitedly from Melbourne to New Zeeland, from (it’s not finished yet) New Zealand to Darwin or Cairns, and so on… Okay, it’s the start of a sort of trip, so I’m pretty much excused from those last couple of moves. Anyhow, I haven’t found the reason of existence yet (I was close a couple of times, but got drunk and forgot what it was (just my luck!)) though it must have been all about this quest for my own affirmation as an outsider, to define that for myself, get away from that familiar world that seemed to impose conformity on me. Or whatever.

*burps*

*farts*

*giggles*