In the streets of downtown junkies wet and tight camel splash as homeless animals face the resident of the ATM so damn wet butts, what a waste, fucking rain, another day without the group of the street of the Virgin can rescue any of the surrounding the container remains spoiled by the storm, know nothing of Japan or the black nuclear energy went mad with grief and sheer distance and cries his drawings muddy Romanian dragging a shopping cart each time with less pipes ripped, hard, struggle, know nothing of Egypt, discussed this morning the slop of bread dipped in the pond, his curse, the baby, is the storm yesterday and today.
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