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“I’d rip these posters off…”My forgotten promises
are visiting at night,
to irritate my delicate ceramic bowl,
while plaguing mind
are pointing at my loss.
lack of words
and pacing slurs
around the corridor of thoughts
become the paintings on the wall –
indoctrination of the outside world.
I’d rip these posters off
but the shine is bright
illuminating like a star
my corridors of squeaky wood
and busted screws.
So close to reaching this painting-star,
but it’s hot and melting,
blazing with the orange-red.
Am I scared to burn
or maybe I will freeze this painting cold,
forever staying in the dark
together with a shadow, ginger cat
and a cobweb by the bed.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
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