Heat, boredom and an ominous thunder from the east made seek refuge in the cellar.
Where I spent days drinking Bordeaux,
sleeping on an ottoman and contemplating my protruding navel.
When I, on the third day, got out of my bender
and walked into the street, I found a world deserted; not even a barking dog about.
The silence was so intense that I had to stuff cotton wool in my ears and whistle.
Drank a few beer at a local bar, free for a charge,
then got into a Rolls Royce – never driven one before – drove around town
in the hope finding fellow man; nothing! Not even a goat, if I had been looking for one.
The loneliness became unbearable , in sheer
desperation I jumped into a deep pool, but floated
like a Portuguese phellem . When the drone of silence
grew louder, I threw myself off a tall building; but
descended slower than the tail feathers of a sparrow.
Ran headlong against a glass door, which swung open before my head butted it.
Drank bottles of booze, but didn’t get drunk.
Derived of sleep and spooked by a mind numbing aloneness, doomed to roam this city,
walk in its many parks, see did flowers and petrified trees.
Naked I’m safe for a can opener around my neck
and leather sandals for my callused feet.
Defecate on pavements and urinate up against walls,
while singing: “They are coming to take me away”
And “We all live in a yellow submarine.”