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Spaghetti knots

what goes first: my body or me

I go

it isn’t working

and she goes

I know

and we go apart

making places where

there is nowhere to go


I reek

of old success

and stupor

when it mattered to matter

and when I did to do

and be done

with myself

until there was only applauding

though I could not hear it

for I was at my funeral



fresh and forgetting

how little it mattered

to smell good

even as they sprinkled

cut roses on my body

and its corpse


let’s sit down

and eat

and die

for each bite

is a mention of death

and those that died

trying to create it all

with their life

About kacperniburski

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


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