autumn, the world is dying just like every year
every time when an important era in my life reaches its miserable end, I trample it during my nighttime walks
city centre
black devils
martini
I go to all those film shows, poetry evenings, performances for free
apart from me no one but elderly ladies and gentlemen
they don't know how to switch off their mobiles and they rustle with their sweet wrappers
they're harmless
I take the singular
it requires getting rid of the feminine a bit
also,
I guess there's a tramp on the street, I can hear him yelling "Hare Krishna!"
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