I wake up with a profound sense of responsibility
First of all I do the introductions
I tell myself son this is your disgust
Disgust this is your adoptive son
I find myself talking in the mirror
The water stings the forehead
Like pins stuck in a voodoo doll
I open my mouth and ask when would my next tooth fall
I keep a moment to myself to imagine I am a mad scientist
The only one who knows the secret launch code
Of an atomic bomb which if it would not end the mutiny
It would at last bring some heat

When I walk in the street I propose to myself to love
to the next tree
To predict the future by reading car number plates
To turn commuters’ buses into peace messages
For unknown species of the universe

Yesterday was purely
A good day
A free of charge day
The national football team sponsor sent me a parcel
With 24 dozens of beer and a Tshirt
22 million supporters and one heart
I laughed thinking of the idiots who came up with the slogan
I would have asked them when is the last time they’ve checked out the census
I went to get fags
The guys from Marlboro had a product promotion and gave me a free lighter
I always know that when you win something you lose something
Good things last till dawn
The lighter broke
I got fined for crossing on some red traffic light
I ate again far too much
And slept for just a couple of hours

After a free of charge day
Comes a JCB digger day
When things grow jaws and crush you
They squeeze you to the last drop of kimberlite
ISU has fined the hospital for not having an evacuating plan
next round in the mini-football county championship
at 17 hours elections for some party presidency and press conference
you feel like a block of salt shrinking
while licked by animals

somebody tells me they want more from me
now that my feelings are finally clearing up
I wake up in the middle of the night and haven’t got a clue where I am
Sometimes in my sleep I talk to the local police
I ask them if they’ve identified the old woman who threw herself over the bridge
Other times I rush before the forensics by the city exit crossing
A pulled over lorry
The camera changes it grows arms and legs
It spins here and there like a top offering flesh
An old man laying on the motorway
Nearby a leather bag
And a steaming hot testicle