Every male has a son of bitch inside him..
I see them in the crowd of local buses
Let the eyes shine with lust-
They laugh out loud;
Next to the trade fair- in the evening;
In a flash of red-blue-purple light
In the blink of an eye,
when the crowd grows..
And the breath mixes together..
Sitting a little farther away,
with their blunt noses,
I see them dry out the smell of people.
And like all men, the doggy live inside me
I affectionately call it 'poetry'.