you're reading...
Spaghetti knots

he has his

knuckles blocking out the sun

for the man is pregnant with a fatherhood

that suckles the honey dripped summer

where he wants to be

but not burdened with being

and the nights that swallow

crowing murder

when the mother is emptied

by him huffing a childhood

nursery rhyme he can’t exactly remember

but whose beats are banged

with fists clenched on her shoulders

railing for a drink

that i’ll imbibe later

a boy

carving her out again

with baby bumps

that are actually punches



there’s only you

he says

with eyes wayward

to the life evolving

from the sea

with outer wear and hair

less covering than the last


wading back to water

though i don’t know

how to swim

i wax mindless philosophy

while still absorbing water:

i sink therefore i am

remembering that dead things

float best of all

About kacperniburski

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


One thought on “he has his

  1. Really enjoyed this poem…Very surreal…:)

    Posted by A.R. Minhas | June 23, 2016, 2:39 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: