A picnic with two bottles of gin

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I woke up in a lonesome picnic
With two bottles of gin
And a packed down cigarette.
I must driven the wrong way
Like a hooker for the sunset
Or a piano cabaret.

Happy free bunnies
Sniffing around
Like vegan Indian chefs
In an LSD world…

Why am I wearing a tuxedo
And a fulfilled blood tiara?
Could Vegas or the world have reached to is
Weekend?

Stones trembling, hearth shacking
That’s more like it! –
That’s reason!

Silence again!

What is the matter with nature?
There’s always some symmetry in every firework.
Why is she complaining?

What kind of show is this?
My skull should by now
Be blowing…

A Fiat Punto with closed doors?
Who is the choreographer?

I DEMAND AN ANSWER!

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