| I am the strange hero of hunger
 | 
| My girlfriend lives
 | 
| On the other side of the world
 | 
| And
 | 
| Has
 | 
| Started
 | 
| Reading
 | 
| Crime and punishment
 | 
| By Fyodor Dostoevsky
 | 
| Do you recognise the main character?
 | 
| I ask her excitedly
 | 
| — doesn't he remind you of me?
 | 
| -i've only just begun
 | 
| She answers
 | 
| Whats his name?
 | 
| -Rodya
 | 
| But all the characters
 | 
| Have about 3 different names
 | 
| I always get confused
 | 
| And
 | 
| Can’t tell who is who
 | 
| Because i’m dyslexic and don’t make sounds for the names
 | 
| But Rodya is for short
 | 
| And
 | 
| His sister is called Runya
 | 
| Isn’t Dunya a beautiful name?
 | 
| If little huddie had been born a girl
 | 
| We would of named her
 | 
| Dunya
 | 
| When I talk of the buti
 | 
| Of girls names
 | 
| Or the strange bravery
 | 
| Of artists
 | 
| Or see
 | 
| The lite change
 | 
| Over sea
 | 
| And sky
 | 
| Every second impossible showers of
 | 
| Gold
 | 
| Turning to terrible hues of purple
 | 
| And
 | 
| Black
 | 
| And
 | 
| My
 | 
| Hart rate quickens
 | 
| Because
 | 
| I am amongst
 | 
| My
 | 
| Own
 | 
| People
 | 
| I am
 | 
| The hero of all my favourite novels
 | 
| I live in them
 | 
| And they
 | 
| Live in me
 | 
| I am Arturo Bandini
 | 
| On angels flight
 | 
| Swearing at a beautiful dark haired girl
 | 
| In tattered shoes
 | 
| I am Rodya
 | 
| Guilty of a terrible and senseless murder
 | 
| On the streets of St Petersburg
 | 
| I am the strange hero of hunger
 | 
| Starving to spite myself in Christiana
 | 
| I am Johan Nagel
 | 
| Tormentor of the midget
 | 
| And suicide
 | 
| I am Ishmail
 | 
| Knocker off of tall hats
 | 
| I am every novelist
 | 
| And
 | 
| Every character ever dreamed
 | 
| I am everyone of my favorite artists
 | 
| And
 | 
| I feel myself not one jot less
 | 
| But equell to all of them
 | 
| Turner
 | 
| Munch
 | 
| Holbine
 | 
| And
 | 
| Hokusi
 | 
| Naturally I have no heros
 | 
| I am my heros
 | 
| I am my brothers
 | 
| And sisters
 | 
| I feel myself joined by the soul
 | 
| With all buti
 | 
| My hart sings with every brave endevor
 | 
| With the strange wings of impossible butterflys
 | 
| With every rock that breaths life into the world
 | 
| I stand shoulder to shoulder with
 | 
| All denouncers of meaness
 | 
| I honour spirit and faith
 | 
| And I uphold the glorious amiture
 | 
| I am in love with desperate men
 | 
| With desperate hands
 | 
| Walking in 2nd hand shoes
 | 
| Searching for god
 | 
| And
 | 
| Hearing god
 | 
| And hating god
 | 
| I am a desperate man buckled with fear
 | 
| I am a desperate man who demands to be listend to
 | 
| Who demands to connect
 | 
| I am a desperate man who denounces the dullness of
 | 
| Money
 | 
| And status
 | 
| I am a desperate man will not bow down to acolayed or
 | 
| Success
 | 
| I am a desperate man who loves the simplicity of painting
 | 
| And hates gallarys and white walls and the dealers in art
 | 
| Who loves unreasonableness
 | 
| And hot headedness
 | 
| Who loves contradiction
 | 
| Hates publishing houses
 | 
| And
 | 
| Also I am Vincent Van Gogh
 | 
| Hiroshige
 | 
| And every living breathing artist
 | 
| Who dares to draw god
 | 
| On this planet |