the process

Chisinau Central Market

The axis of third world haircuts

the bland greed of vodka drinkers

the pale skin of the lonely heart

the tomato sun of the market

the prison noise of the taxi-bus

the Cyrillic insistence of the numbered floor

the deathblow in the eyes of the stranger foe

–          Chisinau my jail –

the guilty joy of soaring through the clouds

                        the change and the chaos

the memory

            and the wait.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog

One thought on “the process

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