the letter                                                      

the day is fading into tomorrow

            with an internet radio slow blues jazz

                        on the balcony in front my friend is smoking a cigarette

            the light is low in the room

time for a pOm

            can you remember the letters I sent you since yesterday

the mood is different now

when the moon is almost full

drunkards come out of their filthy coffins

the earth broke in a quake

today

                        of this I am afraid

not of death

a certain GT talked lengthily of

gods & goddesses & devils

do you think his karma will sweep him away?

Ishe can’t sleep at night

it’s a pain to see her like that

the black and the white

the good and the bad

at the exhibit there were also the monsters

they brought them all the way down from the zoo

without guardians

through electric shocks they developed some powers

by which your cheek or mouth disappeared

they drilled your head

and sucked out some blizzards

then we went to the restaurant of the engineer

with his exotic salads while the neighboring couple

ate children in beaujoulais sauce and drank Grand Marnier

I never liked sweet liqueurs

the transplanted started talking like the owner of his new kidneys

and was brought to the theater

without the machine used to recycle someone else’s blood

the cop from South America seemed a true Nazi

mesmerized I was when he told me his name

black leather boots – lust in his eyes

the area is turning commercial

never saw so many people in the neighborhood

when you meet a known face you stop and chat for a while

as if they were your relatives

nothing left to tell you

I can’t even remember when I last saw a violet.

Poems on this page © Anny Ballardini 2005-2006