electric acid fireflies
... I just prefer candles
no, nothing to do with romance
it's more about their clandestine light
which, just like lust, has nothing to do with romance.
Pablo Milanes plays in the background, almost deaf
the last bottle of that stinking German Riesling you gave me
is almost empty now
I drink it slowly
from the bottle, like it should be
I mean, dressing up this cheap wine
(which is one step away from salad dressing)
with a crystal glass, would be imperfect in form.
I rest my weary head on an old Armando Chacon book
tired of the tedious monotony, bored, bored, bored
I wish my "Caffe Ladro" friend was here
but the train has already left.
I light another cigarette
and another
and another
Staring at the smoke in spiral flight
around the flame's dancing tongues
bored in the tired infatuation, like me.
Zombie gipsy,
confused to the point of no return
I find myself pointing at my head with a pen
hostile ink fountain, word chisel
I could swear it looks like a gun sometimes
no, nothing to do with romance
and there's nothing wrong with the light bulbs either.
On these spotlight times
I prefer the light of the candle
because it's clandestine
because it illuminates in secrecy
while having nothing to do with romance
I guess that nasty Riesling didn't turn out so bad after all.
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