The philosopher

Red city, red sky reflected in the clouds.
With a clear sky it would be darker
Than yesterday or the day before
The remainders of the week
Have been devoured by rats
I too was looking for a meal

My head was so empty.

Somebody gave me some money,
I euphorically masturbated in an alleyway

De-rush the people
and they will hate you for who you used to be
For a warm meal I'll give you my soul
and my immortality.