Tomorrow is on its Way

Soon is sitting on my neck

Choking me with stomach acid

Poking with his needle.

Soon is too soon

And I’m not soon enough..


Today could be green

But tomorrow’s gloomy horizon

Hits me like a bat,

Like a white policeman

Banging a black suspect

Leaving him bleeding

Like all the other

All like him.

Incarcerated by His Holiness

White, modern, civilized.

Exchanging our souls

With the devil of the Heavens.

Masculine like them

Deceiving like the colors

Of the rainbow.

Lying about the treasures of life,

Shaping our neatly curved existence.

Undermining gray shades,

Lurking around the corner

Of rain

Of midnight

Of new year

Of the universe.


There must be another way.

The Russians tried,

Cuba walks the mile,

And China sold its soul.


But the planet keeps eating

Scavenging on its stale bones,

Consuming fresh girl-meat

And throwing young males to the lions.

The Lords of The West

Gods of the best,

Guardians of the present

Of the today, and of the fall.

Will the long gone and broken

Flowers of early spring

Break through the thick and oily canvas

And paint a new tomorrow?

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