Alcohol, women, sex and time // Poetry
How many nights have I finished my sorrows in alcohol, waiting for you to arrive?
In a certain drunkenness I lost the notion of things,
I think that on that occasion I also lost the account.
women,
uncertainty and pleasure,
“WE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DO MASSAGES, WHAT DO YOU THINK WE DO HERE?”
What I ask, and do not argue.
I only have one hour.
My lunch hour.
begins...
I have to work at 1:00
Not so fast.
Do you want to get rid of me?
How well your pussy smells
You will see that I am a bull
Look how I ruminate
"WHAT, WHAT, WHERE IS THE BULL?"
Damn,
he thinks he can tell me what to do,
And why not.
That's how they are all.
They will always end up telling you:
"DO NOT DO THIS, DO THAT"
"WELL, NO, YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING RIGHT, RIGHT?
Of course I know.
I do not work under pressure.
For that reason, I have in recent months,
They have thrown me out of 10 jobs.
"WHY DO YOU ARRIVE AT THIS HOUR?"
"ARRIVAL TIME IS AT 7!"
a suicide has been thrown to the rails.
the wild heat is stressful.
I had a couple of beers.
Monday,
Tuesday,
Wednesday,
Thursday,
Friday,
Saturday, Sunday, a week ...
two...
one month,
everything remains the same,
nothing changes,
I waste my life,
My time,
"WHAT THE FUCK, DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"LOOK HOW YOU ARE!"
nothing darling, you were late,
I tell him, with a cigar on his lips
Bitch,
while you enjoyed,
I died more and more,
go, get out,
Take your breakfast, if you want ...
It is in the inn.
Damn poetry.