<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=490870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Monologue #5</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">they will read.<br>these bald men, with suspenders for their eggs.<br>these bearded men who smell like dry soil from the desert.<br>do you know that smell? <br>i know.<br>they will wonder, what is this nitwit trying to say? <br>a mole. a transformation. into a rock, a haven for scorpions.<br>they will put their pointing finger to their chins.<br>silence.<br>contemplation.<br>dim lights. <br>beer. so much beer to fill their brains with.<br>foam.<br>i am waiting. i am famous now. they are making me the object<br>of their discussion.<br>but it will be hurting, they will bombard me with their own<br>shortcomings.<br>how they fail. how they stumble in their pride.<br>they dig their foxholes for defenses.<br>their children do not know their names.<br>their mothers are still looking for their<br>umbilical cords.<br>for a while they will be drunk<br>some will dance naked, and their bodies are not good to look at.<br>ugly.<br>i vomit. i make the room smell like <br>the manger where the famous baby was born.<br>this the place for a beginning.<br>i do wish them dead. they are needed.<br>the world will be horrible without them.<br>i am shaken.<br>and finally i arrive at the conclusion<br>that after all, with all of them, <br>all drunk and lost and <br>hurting, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">life is still worth living.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=490870" data-title="Monologue #5 de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="they will read. these bald men, with suspenders for their eggs. these bearded men who smell like dry soil from the desert. do you know that smell? i know. they will wonder, what is this nitwit trying to say? a mole. a transformation. into a rock..."></div> </div> </div>

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