31 december 2020
The Soliloquist
Stares down, the grey
moon, fixedly,
in naked aggression…
Fire and brimstone.
I move one step, towards you. In semidarkness
I have lost the address
of peace.
The transgender, stumps
the ghost. There was no noun,
no pronoun, only an abstract
feel. Do you see the
wooly trail beating the dust?
When did you hit the dirt road
not to come back…
What was undone? After
the death of the cuckoo, there was
no wedlock in words.
16 august 2025
wiesiek
16 august 2025
wiesiek
15 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
13 august 2025
wiesiek
13 august 2025
absynt