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Poets wrote their lines,Cafe players strainedViolins’ strings,Proud standards plowedThe battlefields. Underground armies conspiredAnd fought their petty warsSwiftly…

After this

After this -Nothing.No wanderingsThrough barren lands,No prayers hummedIn deserted tents. After this -All shall be nothingness,But a…

Brodsky in Uppsala

…And as he reads on his poemsI follow close upon his words. For he is a poet…

Is this a man?

Man is just Tame ape. Not long pastCage stage.

Menu in high places

NowadaysA PRESIDENT FOR LIFEMay eat hisPRIME MINISTERFor dinner.

Not enough

It’s not enough to stay alive,One has to see this world crumble.Yes, one has to get…

First I dedicated it to Wladek Duczko and then took it off because we went broyges. Now that he is dead I’m putting him back here.

First comes the pope; he is a Pole.Then some old men from all over into the…

A meeting with

“We could be sitting right here in this roomAnd in the yard they’d be murdering our…

After meeting with

It always starts somewhere:Sometimes as a word,Sometimes as a gesture.It starts and falls upon the wavesAnd…

Something about nothing

It’s when killings become murderThat they find a suitable victim:A stooped silhouette, faceless shadow;From their midst…