28 September 2008

ode to the polish verse commander


designed by history
the walls I saw reflected
upon me the words of comfort
of a disconcerting dreamer


The side-street of a glance
is in your pocket, in your grave
and wears no verb



in the night-time of a text
called love in colour
pavements said paint


deep into the crossroad
of green and dark lights
walks multiply

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