My sex. Waits for me. Like a mongrel waits. Downwind on a tight rope leash. . My sex. Is a fragile acrobat. Sometimes I'm a Novocaine shot. Sometimes I'm an automat.
Traveling with no destination, no place to go. Nameless towns with faceless people, no place I know. Time to close my mind and drift off to other scenes.
Remember health warning. It's printed on the packet. Middle tar, low tar, high tar. Something that make you die. . Taking one out of the packet. It's just a force of habit.
The message. In a faded envelope. In a viselike grip. . The passage. Of a carriage in the dark. On a foreign trip again. . The image. Of a figure in the trees.