||: poems
NOT OBSERVING
what way do we choose
where from and where
i ask myself
from where to where
does way pick us
which one pick us
now and then we become buffalo's
or rather a cars
we move move have grouped
into homes dismembered affairs at ourselves
we talk talk and our words
move apart from us
as if comet's fallen leaves
animals with horns and tails
and claws
on wheels we try to disappear
from the colors that to concentrate
to condense - a smell of bread at cornfields
at chats talk talk
not observing the roads behind us
by which move our roads
by which move our
accumulations in the emptiness at ourselves
among accumulations at the one or
two words which are appeared
by ourselves which are shot
from the bow-string of language
along by involved smoke curling
road
of that language
TUNNEL
i said i'm happy
because i see you're happy
in the middle of the vast nite
after a day spent in Santa Cruz
in a long corridor
people were passing nobody even threw a coin
She just put thankfully
six dollars dreary and dully
fitted along lengthy tunnel
i got blister and continued vibrate the strings
until came up fifty-years old
grey-haired imposing said
as if excusing
i-sure-love-music-but-please-don't-think
it's-wonderful-but-get-me-here-is-offices
people-work-one-can't-play-here-you
know-it's-against-the-law-music
it's-fine-but-please-get-me
we prepared and walked to take cup of coffee
played jazz trumpets solo
a words hung in air as if baloons
but music music rushed about like bird
a birds or rather it was looking like scraps
steams or rags or crumpled old posters
then we went to musical store
where i scrolled in the form at customer
then we get home
in a shop we met Russian-girl
wide face stout born in Yugoslavia
learns Russian i said
vsego horoshego (i.e. the all good)
then i don't remember exactly
in the nite said as if am happy
because you're happy because at
i'm happy because
we are happy
i said