and the first prize
for true ugliness
goes to the Beatle Pickup

Dillo Fenderson

couriers and tourists
everyone else is inside
buildings or cars

Dillo Fenderson

quiet night,
mostly empty streets,
and a splitting headache

Dillo Fenderson

moon behind clouds
like a painting
in watercolours

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concentrated on not making a mistake
i fucked up
first chance i got

Dillo Fenderson

tops of sky scrapers
lost in fog
lit from below

Dillo Fenderson

first, snow on the cars,
then on the ground.
guess it's winter after all

Dillo Fenderson

the music confirms my suspicion:
the people aren't real,
but it's really happening.

Dillo Fenderson

voices distorted
to the monotonous buzz
of insects

Dillo Fenderson

probably the first time
i wish it would stop
going downhill

Dillo Fenderson