Maria Barbara Korynt
After The Change It Is Spinning... - Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
The engine no longer is turning the grinder.
The clock has stopped, it isn't beating.
The neighbour isn't measuring blows
out for the wife, because
it is not nice.
Invariably the blue bus
and get enouh sleep.
After the night shift, the driver wandered
around the town. A new grinder bought.
He will already be not having to bite
and to swallow.
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