XLIII
my life revolves around
those places/squares and containers
for pills and creams
for books and screams
that i’ll visit regularly
in a desperate attempt to find
some sense of a lonesome
togetherness
in the lemon slice that drops
into my tea of recuperation
from the brink of desolated roads
and empty galleries
woman bird that carries me
on wings of ardent inspirations
to the other side of lethe
the blue star
the red-hot poke of the sun
the turquoise fish
smoothing the mind
the burst of children’s noisy laughter
shrieks and swills of innocent chatter
some birds rise to a new generation
mingling lively between
the sculptures as living art –
miro who smiles –
day dreaming drive thru’ veins of
communicating roads
threads from the deeper side
of tragic laughter to the hustle of
the trader’s nets
that catch the shoppers unaware
like buzzing flies that tumble/lie
wait/struggling for their end in time
amber tea and lemon slice
white skinned yellow egg slice
dark-pink tuna shreds
that ended on the green leaves
of salad/gherkins/red tomatoes
broad potato slices/black olives
like dark eyes stare in quiet disbelieve
inner sighs/moisture-like cries
then – into the mist of thoughts
and the blue light of his dreams
he leans his head on his arm
thru’ half open eyes
the image of the fiddler’s face
that shimmers from the glass on
his table –
calls him/beckons him
with his wide warm eyes.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’21.
intercession of catos libidos, but I’ll b back folks!