lunes, 21 de septiembre de 2009

some people

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they'll find me there.
it's Cherub, they'll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.

then, I'll rise with a roar,
rant, rage -
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
I'll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
overfed whale.

some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.


1 comentario:

Vinilocura dijo...

Es un grandísimo halago que una foto mía te haga pensar en Tom Waits. Cojonudo escribirte justo en una entrada de Bukowski, ya que Tom le recita tan bien :)

¡Gracias por tropezar tan bien!