From One-Sided Conversations With My Lovely Father Poem by Piotr Ploszaj

let's stop playing the critical points
the last blue line went through the mind
into respirator

old plums for takeaway
where as issuing deposits
there are like clapping on the head
clapping Maslow's dogs
eternal compassion the neighbors
however they are other

shells had been cleaned
badgebooks by which then I received on the head
accidentally burned
it still reeks of a difficult childhood

forget
who's who removed the last boat
who was weak enough to drown in vodka - first
axioms are becoming ridiculous
pars pro toto - cotillions in lipstick champagne and praline
extraordinary banquet
where there the tilt usually have about forty percent too much
instantaneous gait in which inside the shoulder grow up koromyslo
determinant uncertain adulthood

from nobody's fault
I have just three blessings and tattered crow's feet
maybe it will blow like the last tongue to granite
may remain in the likeness of what it was

why each approach the cenotaph
I feel the fear that repeated crashes of the same staples
for their children
that will write the melancholy lyrics
which runs loving father