Justerini & Brooks

no movie for us tonight. the taste of
liquor on the lips burns them. our lips
are wounded due to the cold and the
humidity. almost all great authors are
dead, now, only we remain, trying
our best not to be forgotten, drinking,
eating cheese, writing non stop bullshit.
this isn't the time for movies, it's getting
late in here. all great authors have been
dead for a long time, it's saddening.
our pain lies deeper than our ribs,
our heart, our lungs. closer to the
kidneys, actually, when they burn
after we drink too much, lips bleeding,
numb. what happened to us? there's
no answer to this question. it's thursday,
movies are opening in theatres all over,
but this is no night for movies, no
night for sad rendez-vous, we drag
ourselves through life, through nights
like this, we starve, there's no place for
us. our lips covered in scrapes. our
eyes are tired of air and humidity.