Too many steps too drunk
an outsider
infatuated
with the outside decadence
a 30-day-old poet
taming his extinction
grasping for existence
breathing the sidewalks
as an addiction
calling street life
the pulp of everything
right here
civilization as a theory
the grid of rebellion
on this Rorschach
while the chanting epochs
intoxicate us
with their
darkness
in the streets
in the steps
of drunken
us.
Beyond Language 
pablo,
your kind of poetry never fail to amaze me. there is such raw power that pushes my mind to dig deeper into words as if they have a life on their own. you mention about the city streets, i can feel poetry in the sidewalks during your drunken nights and how the dark-tinged lines came out screaming your pure nihilistic ordeal and rebellion with the world.
marvin