22 Οκτ 2018

You press buttons.


...



You press buttons,
everywhere buttons.
Instead of a loud
what the fuck is this?
and then an is this shit love?
you say order some pizza maybe?
Bacon? Onions?
You follow the first random girl home -
some Maria something or some George.
You press -or not press- buttons
to declare I like it,
bullshit,
I am attending.
Instead of telling her
to keep the baby,
you follow the glorious museum of modern art
- I know my art shit,
I know the painter of Guernica.
No museum will come to your bed at night
and kiss you in the back of your neck
-You don't care, 
you eat
you pray
you die
you press buttons.


....



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