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Spaghetti knots


The following aren’t very good, but global warming promises to heat things up at the very least.


The winter rots

In long shadows,

Seeding familiar pots

Of strange sorrows.

A bike emerges

From the snow;

Croci scourges –

The grass needs a mow.

Where has winter gone?

I am caught in eternal summer.

Look – there swims a swan;

My hands feel much number.

What am I to do, feel, and understand

If all there is is this wet then dry then wet land?


She coughs

Fumes like diesel

As the city punches

Against falling teeth.

The car shakes

And she coughs again.

The wheel is too cold to touch.


Two strangers sit

At a bus stop

Waiting for the day

To begin

While their breaths

Make physical love

To one another

In public –

Mixing, swaying, fondling

Until they penetrate the other’s

Mouth in violent, starving

Life-giving inhales.

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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