***

man is a fire

every time I burn with shame when I see a bird pecking at bread crumbs at a bus stop

children’s bread and milk are poured from heaven onto the rain earth

minced meat at the meat market screams

***

in the morning I watched fish bones on the shore

autumn crying to the crunch of ears and bones

the heart turns inside out in the hope that aluminum birds

also fly home from warm countries after wintering

***

platinum night in the back of the head

who breathes rose petals into the crown of the cemetery?

perhaps this is another hanged or unborn brother

maybe it’s a local jesus

maybe it’s mom who smiles with raindrops

it would be nice if it was someone good

but black and white don’t exist

there is only a synthesis of colors

it would be nice if such an abstract love corresponded to a non-abstract world

and at night a cemetery emerges from under the pillow

and flowers dream of growing not for the sake of mourning ribbons

the night goes on a journey

morning will never come

***

I press a laptop key unknown to me and hope to summon the spirit of the deceased grandfather in this way

what you do not understand: the life of the elderly is death

I would like to live forever but I’m too poor for that

I would rather not love but I need to fill the void inside my chest

I would like to be an inanimate object but I move like a worm

I’d rather live like a worm with no limbs so I wouldn’t be forced to take death in my hands

my grandfather promised to play with me after work and didn’t come back

the cast-iron milk of the night covered his eyes

after lunch it is very dark outside

***

my feet are stones

I step on the leaves by force

I feel a crunch under my feet

whose bones turned out to be leaves?

why is the tree silent?

why does the bush not wave its branches with its hands?

whom I trample under my sole on the way to death?