My Share of Time

I write to you a letter from the trenches
in clear black ink
sealed in a SASE envelope

around here some people still play war games
they clash in couples or alone
bringing blood on the whites of their eyes
they shoot each other in the corner
of their minds

others pull out whatever they can
from this life
caressing cats and dogs and newborn babies
as if these were a kind of secret weapons
they spy on those who have a sincere smile
because good intentions create suspicions
they arrest those who give charity
and those who buy flowers
cutting off their share of potatoes and beans

if it is night or day it makes no difference to me
I am much more sour
much more yellow on my cheeks
since the street guards whistle at scheduled moments
time is trenched more accurately in equal parts

it is as if no one understands
why I am so calm why I have only civil clothes
or what kind of devil do I expect to be blind
in order to pass the last border line
and finally scream I’m alive

Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: , | Leave a comment

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