been a firework man
for as long
as I can remember
trouble is
there'll be no more such intense
mindfuck
New Years
like o-fuckin'-six in the gutter
devastating booze shops
whisky megamarkets
pissing off
bourgeois restaurants
waitresses resistful
pouring bohemian vendettas
at every goddamn
yuppie
screaming out our doubts
into star deaf perimeter
red hissing sky confessions
four years of vagabond vacancy
via absolute
freedom
gypsy stone magic
thin methedrine dukes
in bum vomit districts
kickin' the bad gong
buskin' at every goddamn corner
dime after dime after dime
till the song ran out
of tune
or time
kept no records
of this sacred lunatic life...
now what's there in the mirror?
cheap paper eunuch
feeling broken-down fifties
inside
shades over eyes
just in case
where is the firework
where is the sweetest
bum manifesto?
waiting 'til I'm history
history needs no
excuses
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