with legs beaten off while taking fight to the next haven
I think I am done
will prostitute myself
become dog in a shed
it is gonna get easier
golden chain
or TV set to make me bark all day at a tree
or me in a mirror
crazed with a dream of jerky treat
my kosher virgin
next door
naked
and still
fear of flees
can’t hold me back

z odgryzionymi nogami
po ostatniej walce w niebie
skończyłem karierę
oddam się na kulawego psa do budy
będzie łatwiej
złoty łańcuch albo telewizor i będę szczekał na drzewo
albo siebie w lustrze
opętany marzeniem kiełbasy
koszernej dziewicy
w budzie obok
nagiej
nawet pchły
nie mogą mnie powstrzymać

22 years later
I am still 21
as if I were 33 again
recovering from time
at almost 51
the incurable disease All get from eternity
upstairs
where lesbians had loud
unconventional sex
that kept me awake at night
drums
echoing
down the rivers of Past
I refuse to believe
I walked through

Whenever numbers
manifest
with an avalanche force in my life
surprising me with their determination to be powerfully imprinted
into my mind and brilliance
of many ways in which they happen
to enter my consciousness
I mentally prepare myself for unpredictable extent
of Italian Che Sara Sara
and American In God We Trust
as it is always indication of a powerful change
including death
no enlightenment is greater
or sense of belonging
If you did good
good is difficult

prayers in the dead of the night
get interactive
music travels up and down the stream
freed
young river
suddenly cascading
over wandering stars
still
as loud in its mouth

Quo vadis?
you
here
if not to the source of all words
the river wants to whisper
before silent grace of an ocean