Take me tothe comics section
My last meal should be a poor man’s breakfast-a slice of Lithuanian black breada hard boiled egg and a piece of fat and just slightly salty Baltic herring
Read more ...
I transformed myself in her freezing rivers—Lietuva burst a floret, yare devil, and a pixy.
and so, I claw with my fingersat the emptinessto which, my blood, from time to time,waving its little hand, says hello
there, were a still living bird sings,sings of how we will not die,but simply remain invisible for all time
Thusly, we momentarily see reality, crawling through the trenches, showing its spikes to the outside world.
what of itthat i stand watch for the third dayover an unborn poem
and the snow will crunch, and the dew will push through the door, and there will be nothing,only three hearts, palms grown together
It’s liberating, like removing diapers from a child –I crawl through my dream naked and without shame.
Summer ends in my wombwhile autumn begins to ripen.I’ll have a little wolfevery night now.
am I free? – I ask myselfcould I be free? – I have my doubtsam I under arrest? – not yet
let life live itself it’s not stupid after allit knows what it’s doing
Page 1 of 2
(c) 2016 "Vilnius Review" | Sirvydo st. 6 | 01101 Vilnius | Lithuania | email@example.com
(c) 2012 Your Copyright Info