Thursday, June 3, 2010

931. RIMBAUD IN TRANSLATION

RIMBAUD IN TRANSLATION
I don't have the muscle to do you in,
I couldn't muster the energy to slit you.
All I can do, actually, is listen some more to
your bullshit lines : jumping cadavers and
toasters that barf, thousand dollar pants
and handholds of gold. Preposterous horseshit,
all. But, here I sit, taking it in. I shan't leave.
I won't get up. Gun-running fucked-up young
bastard that you are, I'll outlast you waiting in
the line to Hell. Watch the window, shade your
face. Look towards the skylight once more.

No comments: