Image: © Timon Musy

Author: Timon Musy


A seventeen-legged bug floats on coffee
The bartender is sleeping, high on bicarbonate
Not seeing the peeping moths on the neon light
Calm and breezy

– He did not wake up yet

The pie crust tastes vaguely familiar
Old waste oil and engine coolant, honey and salt
Graphite on the table

– He did not wake up yet, he took the left road

I do not talk
The coffee drips through a crack in the wall
And agglutinates in a six-feet deep black pool
A fish could smoke a menthol cigarette
Spit on a fly
Buy a scratch ticket
Everyone left. The ceiling looks at me
I’m blind

– You’re all I need

I feel like a dog trapped in my car
Not sure whether the engine works or not, did not try
Don’t know where I left my key
In the middle of the road
Just woke up
Not hungry

– All I need

I do not miss her
We never met
Maybe she never existed

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