this you should know




there’s a lady in that pretty-hoe town

(i wish you could meet her

sailors N knights N poets N priests)

a pretty-hoe lady, by the way

writing praise songs in kiswahili

while straightening her stockings

or painting her lips

or taking a deep one from her cigarette

or walking right over you

just like that

i wish i could take your hand

and walk you up to that heavenly cell

where she proclaims

another one of

those narcotic songs of hers.

she walks in beauty, that one,

as some other guy said once,

big heart short life,

this you should know.



All the best for your big day, short lady! I#m sorry for being late (as usual).

Yet I uttered some wishes, my love, the whole candle-thing, as you can see. May they all come true.

Could you feel anything already?





(remembering the days and nites)


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