hands kept in pockets
winter breath stays close to me
the city is cold
hands kept in pockets
winter breath stays close to me
the city is cold
red wine spilt on the rooftop
under eyes cast cities’ lights which reflect stars organized in squares and lines
point to homes and prisons and violence and escape
kings on the road share wisdom while taking cigarettes
never to inhale is certain death and what is the grand funeral without the fantastic that preceded and plays on post eyes closing?
walk, walk, walk and drive in the frenzy