(To a certain extent)
At the hiring interview for the position inside your heart
The Manpower guy read a couple of lines from my cv
Queue up here, he says
The job is highly demanding
And no retirement fund is granted.
“Trust me” I say “I’ve been studying for this moment
“Well, you’ll begin today.
Just lie there, together with the masses
That everyday are walked upon
On their chests
5 to 6 pm, sharp.
Your contract will be renewed every morning”
I’ve been thinking about an app for dentists
All it has to do
Is reminding you no to go there
All you need is a couple of pics of the last time
Shattered gums, rotten teeth
A domestic Vietnam
To laugh better
At someone who remembers us
What we’ll become in 20 years.
I’ve been playing left-side defender since I was a child
Been dealing with ankles
In my living room
Stands a huge collection of cracked shin guards
The guy playing number 3 is better than I am
He dares to go for trivela
And he know how to trigger an offside
The coach kicks me in when we’re losing 0-3
It’s 3 mins past the 90th
I don’t give a shit about football
I just sit here
Every fucking day
On this cold-stone bench
Hoping for an injury to his feet
A thunder of bad luck
A glitch of the shinbone
In this rubber stadium, football temple
My personal hate gym.
I even tried to clean my soul up
I put it in the washing-machine, 90 degrees, together with socks, shirts and underwear
Socks got out unpaired, no wonder
All the rest, completely blown up
A laundry Mururoa.
Whenever I hang my clothes, normally
Clothespins fall on the lady downstairs’ balcony.
She gives them to her dog for lunch
A Rottweiler in the body of a poodle.
Wifi doesn’t work at home
I call the call center
20 minutes of Johann Sebastian Bach
Then someone answers
It’s Johann Sebastian Bach
He speaks 19th century-German
But the present one would’ve been enough
To make me not understand a single shit
So I just opt for my normal strategy
Delegating the activities I don’t fancy doing right now
To my future self
And this is mostly why
Who I am today
Is linked by an atomic hate
To the one who came before him.
People need to hear things don’t work for others either
Better, if things, for others, go even worse
This is the remaining sense of poetry
I can lose my bet on everything
But not on you, walking away.