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Spaghetti knots

capital yelling

and there SHE was

cloaked in articles of light

standing still on a spinning top

holding it all together

while i was out there doing THE THING

so as to make it towards the OTHER THING

which in that moment i could’ve sworn was HER

against the crumbling city that was making me feel bad

and worse

nothing at all

as parts were burning just then

like those i read about in the morning generosity of a milk and toast

and a maybe tomorrow things will be better

including myself

who sees the daily decrepitude in a hospital or an abandoned farm field

or just a land lady’s want for rent

who wags a scent of beauty for those brave enough to look beyond

or the man on the streetcar who hits his kid for misbehaving

where i am sorry i am behaved for his sake

that i’ve been bruised too much now to do anything

licked by the fires of the stars that died to create these duds of me

who do not disrupt the universe

or light my cigarette on the smolders of yesterday

or offer one to THE GIRL who is smoke and the fire

and the wood and the water and and too

for she goes on in that way that a song will in your head

or a kiss will if only i could get it from the lips made

from the same you and i

without all the you and i to ruin a top and bottom

that already spells sex

despite the silence space between breathless us

as the streetcar dies a little more in the metal grinding metal

and the father slaps the kid once more

and the girl drifts to the back untouched by these worldly concerns

but made all more aware of them by being witness to them

for the streetcar almost doesn’t make it to THE THING

and the father stops to gaze up at THE GIRL

and the kid opens his eyes

looks to his dad

follows to THE GIRL

finds his eyes on me

accepts my nod

and then jumps off the rail

to a beautiful day if you could only see it

in the warm sunlight and clouds


what happens next

was always going to:

the kid is hit by someone blinded by the brief light

who was going to ANOTHER THING

the father notices only after the woman passes

the streetcar stops for a short while

to clean the already dirty


all things move again


i am not exempt:

i am fired

for i am late but that never mattered

to the present

as i lose my way to THE THING

forgetting what is what


where there

are those abandoned

by it all


About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.


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