I write words and listen to
sounds from Persia.
There's a party next door
and when the exotic music stops
Я и г р а л с в а ш е й г р у д ь ю
О н и б ы л и ц в е т а м и п о д с о л н е ч н и к
О т р а ж а я в м о и х г л а з а х
Transformed into a moment
There was this single bud
waiting to open
Resting in a hot bath
I had an unholy vision
Of an olive tree.
Its virginal pit
I spoke to the butterfly telling her
I saw a lizard in the middle
of April at the edge of my garden
I did not pass on the other side yet.
God is not ready for me.
I am still building the nose of the puppet.
Everything is fine & dandy on my side.
This is poetry in the making,
its content is developing
forming enchanting words and allegorical silhouettes.
Quick with wit, angry as disillusioned slaps,
Is when quasi-symmetric designs
Reach two stage disjunctive testing
Upon subtracting the discrete numbers.
In the center of the Atlas Mountains
A boy of 9-and-half years
Squirms in an army cot
In the middle of a windowless room.
I'm troubled by the suggestive complexity of
Distinctive formal juxtapositions in this artwork.
Its disjunctive perturbations & eloquence make it
Difficult to consciously enter this chef d'oeuvre in