“Come on. I’m also a social Elton
who likes to have sex in the forest.
It’s all down,
and to the bottom
in a lumberjack shirt.
It’s also nice with sex
on the little mattress in the innerroom
when it’s freaking hot summer
and the steaks are on the grill
soaked with American marinade
in the US suburbs
where we can live a quiet life
with no major existential themes
and a garbage can full of dirty condoms.
But, holy shit, Gelia F
doesn’t like I am reading
William S. Burroughs’ dirty novels
because he was crazy fuck,
and because she is afraid of
that I might be a crazy fuck as well.
“But come on”, I say to her. “I am no William Tell”.
I’m the social Elton of your forest.
I can go deep into the woods for a long time.
And only wearing my lumberjack shirt
I can shoot cuckoos in the cloud.”
My new social Elton seems all very promising.”