The Dent of Existence
We didn't have water today.
I almost crashed into a bus,
Because I wanted the metal
To feel the impact of my bike.
Maybe put in a nice dent or two.
The driver never noticed me.
Never saw me coming.
I braked at the last second
Because I saw a little girl
On the window seat
With a little lollipop in her mouth.
And I let the bus pass.
I had a nice cold shower.
My body felt mine, again.
I punched the wall after I got out, though.
I want a dent or two somewhere.
I left a soap opera in the dent,
And jumped out, singing, whistling.
I shredded the effeminate man
Along with my clothes,
And put on my best masculinity.
I'm glad I didn't put a dent in the bus, now.
I am a man made of dents, little ones and big,
And I have more soap operas
Than all the lollipops in the world