LA LOCANDIERA

whistling my own funeral march

March seems far

off the beaten track

it’s cold September

gelid fingers and glowing lipid emotions

meet half way to heaven

at the other house

whistling my own funeral march

written by Antonio Salieri

in the Tornado of jealous passion

and syphilitic delirium

for the love of harmony he’ll wind up

the metronome

I’ll tick off another second of our moments

whistling my own funeral march

I didn’t survive the crush on you

lungs crashed

monodic pain throbs in my chest

senses lost along the footpath of the river cafe

I hurt

hurt

hurt

lungs crashed

can’t breathe without you I sob

as

the dummies with umbrellas pay me the tribute

in Hollywood style

and storekeeper from the Vietnamese store

down the dirty Plesivec Stairs

crumbles the stale bread on my coffin and

pours on some acid milk

to say good bye

whilst reverend Jim Jones

buries my romance with you

and I’m whistling my own funeral March

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Copyright, La Locandiera, I'm feeling cybersexy, Matya Dio, All rights reserved