Stagnant Water Blues

The first drag sends you to space        in the fog of cherry red light bulbs        inside large windows of the meat market.        Like a child, beckoned by the perfume        of window taps: imagining what each one        will feel like when you penetrate her        as you count your money.               After she kisses you good-bye        you´ll fall into the stagnant water        of a dirty canal that rusts        white row boats bottom up,        and for the first time you open        your eyes wide closed.               The second drag hugs you        with gabled arms.  Its        so hard! to speak when        your abdomen vibrates        and your throat burns        more and more and-        more.  Every breath        a waterfall.               The third drag is a tall dark bartender        who expects a pick-up line you´ll never give        as old men stop in for a morning pick-me-up.        The third drag reminds Englishmen        they once ruled the world        with their pants around their ankles        and hot dogs in their mouths,        as well as everyone else.               The fourth drag brings you back        to a cup of Morroccan tea underneath        an unknown blanket.