fucker & me

i never learned how to skate

to this day.

i would sit my ass on the board

and roll around like a little shit

who doesn't know how to properly use 

the skate.

one of these days,

i was hanging with this bud, 

let me call him fucker,

and he was "da skate typa guy",

so we got in my car with his skate

to keep the talk in day and take

a fresh drive through the city.

at some point, he said to me

mark, let's drive to the road!

why not?, i answered with a smile.

so fucker and i drove for about

20 minutes until we get on this road

under construction that led

out of town.

we got the soda and laughed a little

until that fucker said

yo, mark, i bet ten bucks that i can

roll until the end of the road!

you know the road have no end, right?

then i can just go to the max.

alright then, i said.

so i got in the car and started riding

with fucker, goin' down the hill.

it was getting fast,

getting too darn fast, 

and it was getting slow,

a celestial contrast on the downfall.

until i looked:

the path was over.

fuck! dude, there is no-

and bang!

fucker gets thrown off the skate,

flying through the wind above the grass on a beautiful collapse.

fucker fell down, tumbling across 

the green fields.

i took a good look at him:

his nose was out of place,

his legs were bow and covered

in blood.

he winked at me with a 

dirty little smile

and slept.

i got fucker on my car and

i drove him to the nearest hospital.

i waited for some time and went home,

ordered a pepperoni one on pizza hut

with a two liters pepsi

and sat on my sofa,

watching some interviews 

with tom waits 

and eating a bag of chips.

fucker broke his nose and got

paralyzed.

fucker will never be able to

skate again.

goddamitt, fucker.

i lost ten bucks because of you.