influenza

a jam with my own mind, together racing at the prize
into a golden myth in stone that darkens whole in time
recesses spill Munch´s lust for the horror inside
and Lynch´s throwing me poetic dimebags in abstract textures
light and sound united against reason
leave for the interzone where everything has a feel
and the agents of orange become one with reality
dance alone from reaches unknown by no man alive
those rapa-nui had it all, both space-time and will to take the veil unwrapped
i tackle the white ones and write it on the wall
afective interventions spill out from the spray and the gray becomes frail
under the bright lights, colors that tell stories unbound by any knowledge
the cave leaves me in awe, industrial mesh of raw
seeds of life in tow with art as centerfold
and a german madman empties verve and soul into the blank of god
he dies alone but whole
the junkie king torned between a world of his own and the one which is sold
like the 101 in us
happy when it shows up, along this void we built with smiles and glitter, again and again frittered
smoke a thousand cigarettes, still life finds a way
inhale millions of words,the damned will find a way
and the lizard awaits with a scotch embedded in sweet mescaline
pure and dirty boots shredded from roaming eternity..