Monday, 14 January 2019

prolonging



prolonging
dead poets’ lives
winter night



frozen ground
I bury myself
in the eiderdown



listening to
what pours from her heart
winter drizzle


Friday, 21 December 2018

geese have flown away



geese have flown away
the water falls
in a deep sleep

first published in Polish in Papierowy Zuraw, December 2018



more and more
words to throw away
autumn leaves

first published in Polish in Papierowy Zuraw, December 2018


Monday, 10 December 2018

butterflies on mud



butterflies on mud
sucking poetry
from small things



September evening
the sour scent of haulm
burning in the fields



vignettes
of a faded life
sepia dusk


Monday, 26 November 2018

homeless



homeless
among the skyscrapers
autumn moon

first published in Frogpond, autumn 2018



sun on the water
a languorous swan
warms up its foot

first published in Presence, autumn 2018



warm autumn day
a robot mower wanders
in the meadow

first published in Presence, autumn 2018


Friday, 16 November 2018

wild ducks



wild ducks
on wrinkled water
light autumn wind

first published in Acorn, autumn 2018



The Stakes

You get up from the engaging game of life, you’ve lost count of time. Dirty beer glasses, greasy pizza boxes. Your eyes smart and your back is stiff. A quick look in the mirror. You’ve grown old before you’ve grown up.

distance to death as the crow flies

first published in Modern Haiku, autumn 2018


Friday, 9 November 2018

a slow walk



a slow walk
through the old churchyard
advancing autumn

first published in Cattails, October 2018



violin duet
we can barely string
two words together

first published in Cattails, October 2018



Figures

In the evening, you press your ear lobe for one minute, thinking about what’s going to change in your life. Is it wrong to keep milk in the fridge door? After supper, while he’s choosing a TV-set, scrolling through a list of fifty models, you read about five things about food you’d prefer not to know. And then seven mistakes you make in the shower. Gliding your fingers over your soapy skin, you feel for changes that should arouse vigilance.

swallowing
wads of cotton wool
pastel summer

first published in Cattails, October 2018



Friday, 26 October 2018

the Antarctic



the Antarctic
has begun to melt
cold tofu

first published in Chrysanthemum, October 2018



winter twilight
she embroiders her life
with a red thread

first published in Chrysanthemum, October 2018



Midsummer Dream

He says that talking about poetry is like farting about flowers. She prepares a candlelit supper, he drinks enough. Time for a guy to confess his love to a woman: already drunk and not puking yet.

awakening
so many tears on the grass
after a short night

first published in Chrysanthemum, October 2018