And the mirror cracked,
my mask was a page
that I'd passed out and flipped over
in the opposite direction of the book.
I turned out to be a whale of a
an airtight balloon that I bought
on sale at the family supermarket – – –
shake it and it howls – a sale on misery.
Howling at the moon, at water, at loneliness.
That's a tune only one person knows
on the planet except me
Bowie never lied.
We were both looking for our grave. Two oedipus.
And we both got what we deserved.
they put me in a black case and carry me to the market
now my coworkers are porcelain vases and other trinkets
no one wants me and thank god
the moon doesn't knock on the glass
i wanted to see an animal in the reflection
but I saw an iguana a reptile cold as death
Poetry Is A Primal Instinct…
(from the cycle of telegrics "Transcendance", July 2023)
Heart Of Moby
© Copyright: Константин Немель, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123100501262
Свидетельство о публикации №123100501262
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