15:43
In a subdued town, full of streaked strips
He brushed his thumb on the wooded bridge, smiling with the albatrosses
And with the kissers corners.
Smoke was getting out of the man in a long blue scarf
As it gets out of the factories' chimneys
And both were committing a murder, a horrible one
Of the worst type
These ones that aren't noticed
Not even in days
Not even in months
Not even in years
A old's lady wrinkles camuflated among the smell of azaleias and plastic bags
While a little boy and a big girl lost themselves in dirty and five cents coins
And in funny hats and clenched eyes, fatties and skinnies and mustacheds and baldies were running inside their noisy four-wheel vehicles
Praying to not touch their belts.
red lips were jogging in their 15cm high heels,
bending on windows, far away from the streetlamps
And they were hurrying up the Lazy Sun, that was refusing to let the Moon take his place.
A neck is sore on the bus' window,
a cranium drowned in a novel,
a shabby and worn stroller and then a loud cry,
a well-dressed on Ray Bans,
"a" "a" "a"
And thousands of "a's"
And billions of others
And trillions of some more.
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