poesia?!

Keep sailing. The streets are short. But the ocean is infinite.

the boy is high

he got some weed

and four pints of bud light

black jeans and red shirt

hair stuck in ponytail

I don't want to fuck

but I want another beer

he said to a guy who asked his name

soft cell is playing

I can look deep into your light and shout

hold me hold me hold me hold me

one of the stranger hands

brings a stella artois

and the left one touches his belly

five hundred crunches a day

and a golden path of soft hair

leading to his sex

another wednesday night

east village new york

red shirt and white underwear

white underwear

loose hair

another thursday morning

this time at brooklyn

fuck all hipsters

massive attack protection

good taste for a fast cum shot

now I should leave

black jeans and red shirt

L train 3 train 1 train home