銹湖之畔，舊鋼琴在哭，

我彈你未完的家族譜。

血與墨混進(jìn)C大調(diào)，

烏鴉在梁上數(shù)著拍子踱步。

娃娃燒出銅管嘶吼，

你名字縮寫在裂縫里干枯。

休止符里滴下黑松露，

我把最后一粒灰按進(jìn)F小調(diào)深處。

I woke up, stepped on a Lego, screamed “motherfuck!”

Spilled my coffee, shirt said “shit,” luck ran outta truck.

Boss texted “l(fā)ate again,” I replied “eat my ass!”

Autocorrect switched it to “duck,” so I doubled down fast.

Traffic jam, honking horns, I mouthed every curse,

Radio bleeped like a choir of nuns in a hearse.

Tonight I’ll howl ‘em at the moon, uncensored and loud,

‘Cause sometimes the only poetry left is shouting “fuck” proud.