Dharma ain't what it used to be

Our own saga in the Mahabharata, babe,
lying inside a sack of bones, making love
to everything that passes by,
kama queen, dharma ain't what it used to be
watch the imperial elephant bang the shit
out of any doubts about false godlike figures of the past

Circle of naked stars and the universe is singing with me
where I'm going I haven't still decided
yet in Samsara skyscrapers we will meet
watch me piss in your head from the higher planes
and our own saga in the Mahabharata is on the news, babe
accompanied by the new invader in the White House- me.

Bleeding Whiskey in an eyeless Jerusalem

Bleeding whiskey in an eyeless Jerusalem
laying in the pavement under cloudy godless eyes
Joseph mistook my fainted body for his father's
and carried me to Canaan- what a wonderful year to die,
pretty little horse,
I ain' wrestling no angel, and if I have 12 sons and daughters
I sure as fuck don't wanna know

Man allowed the academic career of his parents
to fill a gap between what he needs and what he craves
with the pitch black ink of a giant kraken
that some may call "beast of the depths"
but it's only an advertisement for Tokyo Federation of Women's Organizations
sinking lower till it hits bottom

Gustav had a Jack of Hearts

Scratching the surface only to find another womb. A line of Saturnalia wives outside Bethlehem's Abortion Center, camouflaged as instruments of pleasure. Pass them a napkin and instead of tears they'll fill it with urine, they may even serve you fetus on the rocks.

Tried to lie to Gustav Klutsis to win a game of poker, he only whispered that the sky is red and sent a Jack of Hearts to rape me. Dogs around the deck and the boat is swallowing bubbles with us inside. Padre de la famiglia Joseph shot Gustav down so I could get my money back, I didn't mention anything, mind you.

IZO Narcotics

Think of Lunacharsky
and his bag full of surprises
IZO Narkompros turned
into a can full of worms

A totem staring at the hands of infidels,
a field that awaits to be washed by the flood,
come, precious little horse
we're going back home

Endeavours of the past stinking like piss in a cup of wine
Samson-headed messiahs with albino bodies rounding up
Tearing our precious temples down, down, down
Dressed with the eyes of men

Λάθος.

Κάθε σίδερο στην ταράτσα είχε και από μια ζωή, από τις 7 της γάτας που με κοίταζε πριν ώρα στην άκρη του στενού. Και ένα φανάρι, μαζί με το τελευταίο μου τσιγάρο, αναμμένο. Στους ώμους μου, το σφύριγμα των τρένων, στα αυτιά μου γέλια και βαβούρα να πολτοποιούνται σαν αερικά σε μπλέντερ. Πέντε κεφάλια, ένα για κάθε λάθος στο μοίρασμα της τράπουλας, να πέφτουν διαδοχικά από την ντουλάπα, και να αναρωτιέμαι, γιατί σήμερα; Το φανάρι σβήνει, μαζί με το τελευταίο μου τσιγάρο, οι πλαστικές σακούλες φυτρώνουν στις γωνιές, το σφύριγμα δυναμώνει κι εξαφανίζεται απότομα, σαν ενοχλητικός συγγενής.

Cover for.

A womb called Antarctica

734-234

The center of all that breathes.