Poezja

and the flames were swallowed by darkness…
you go ahead I’ll be there in a moment
the dogs are dead
I tracked them with a computer
to the end of hope
they’re here
they called me home
I am at your convenience
which will get you nowhere
trust in the lord and you’ve suddenly got one
but company is hard on my knees
and if I were an imitation
of a standardized test
a sample
a reaction
broken into
with the only key
I could explain the fusion
of those funny things you hear out there
that would like to get back inside
nobody
who got it from you and returned it
used it last
why do we always
talk over each other when we are trying to think?
the clock is eating the frosted halls of an apparent haven
and of course there is a limited ration of kerosene
who is hidding inside the imitation
that takes over the question marks in ski masks?
punctuate this truncation with a bodice of perfume
yes it could be anybody’s
now
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