Impulses

I am suspended between tram

and a Columbus ship

like a hearth in a ill man's body

filling the filth

telephone talks

my own thoughts even

sometimes I eat

your simple little looks 

which ask me

every time

why haven't we slept together 

yet

I am drowning in the dark waters

of this lonely dark city

drowning 

and starting to beat

to fight for a next day

drunk as hell

happy as never

lonely as always

astonished

furious

mad