Bohemian Coffeeshop Blues

En gang på nittitallet møttes en litt assortert gruppe mennesker der ingen kjente alle men alle kjente noen, tilfeldig på kafeen som den gangen het Permanenten. Vi var alle like blakke, men seks-syv mennesker klarte til sammen å skrape sammen nok penger til én kopp kaffe. Å dele denne kaffekoppen rettferdig var en utfordring, og løsningen på det hele ble å skrive et dikt på rundgang. En linje hver, og en (liten) slurk kaffe etter hvert bidrag. Jeg mener å huske at vi midtveis i diktet tigget fem kroner til påfyll av noen tilfeldige mennesker ved et annet bord.

Diktet ble skriblet ned på et avrevet stykke papir, og endte opp i mine hender til slutt. Der det plutselig dukket opp igjen mye, mye senere. Jeg presenterer:

Bohemian Coffeeshop Blues

It was a dark and stormy night
I was getting ready for the fight
With my coffee in my hand
In a world I couldn’t understand

My life long love had left me
I felt like walking to the sea
To stare down in the deep dark waves
I felt like the ancient slaves

So, after my time has passed and gone
I will live on through my only son
Though he is a slob without a life
I’ll get a sex-change operation and be his wife

I’m not a bloody poet
But now I know it
Godzilla is a horse
Being shot in the veins by whores
(I wrote that myself, of course)

I have reasons to believe
There are armchairs up my sleeve
Armored I walk on the battlefield
With a penguin for a shield

My sword is made of snakes
My brain feels like corn flakes
High-heeled with fishnet stockings
I watched the starship dockings

They came from Venus and from Mars
To kick my puny little arse
Like butterflies falling from the sky
My time was left alone to die

These two past lines are crap
I have to check my map
Where the place might be where I want to live
To leave the people I can’t forgive

The blood is rushing through my veins
The aliens are trying to melt my brains
But I will stand up and give them a cake
To prove my breasts are not fake
(though is this a chance I’m ready to take?)

Oh my god, I lost my genes
And you know what that means
I’m starting to believe that silence is gold
And we have to leave, because the coffee is cold

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