étude #14

some peanuts in the right pocket.

a straw hat on my head
still hiding the cynical smile
behind mustache and beard.

no more cigarettes.
alcohol? “yes please, you can always pour me some more”.

I never carry an umbrella,
they always break
under the gusts on the West side.

there is a hole in my right sole
(the foot just got wet)

a silhouette
of your pointy breast is still stuck in my mind.

a simple bouquet,
is peeking from my leather messenger bag.

(breaking my back)

on my way back.

soon I will see an old you.

I was becoming a quite blasé
to the new me.

and you?

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