Point of no Retards

September 22, 2010 at 5:04 pm | Posted in life | 4 Comments

I want to leave for London so bad. Now.
Or Mao. Philippines, see the Kremlin, show the uni-digital salute to some skinhead…see if they’ll axe me.

I want to walk down an umarked street, kicking a misplaced pepsi can, see the end of a street I have never known – think about home. 1 000 0000 miles away.

As far, as exaggerated, I still want to get up, pack, fly…crawl, walk, what- ev for as long as my body fuel can burn, as far as the edge of the planet stretch.

What’s with the look?

Here!

Feel it – my chest. Or the scraggy ribcage.

It’s thumping, right? – heard of the Tum Tum dreams from West Africa?

In my veins, it’s throbbing, like an uncured erection.

Chill.

Hold these thoughts…for me – as i take a leak.

The cig stick dancing on my lips, as I talk to you, holding my brief nut case.

Try to look away, as I unziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.

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4 Comments »

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  1. You need to pick up from where you left off….how long does that trip to answer Mother Nature’s call take you?! ha ha ha
    More, more, more already

  2. Hope that you are also aware of is- cute drums from Western Ken yah!

  3. hahahaha but boy fulani!

  4. Hahaha, uncured erection. Win


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