Miroslava Odalovic Poems

Some teachers regret the day when they taught their students to read and write
I wonder about mine.

Neki uč itelji zažale dan kad su svoje djake nauč ili da č itaju i pišu. Pitam se za svog.
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A concert for the mushroom

Post modern
Pre mortal
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Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
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The ace of all the spades
The joker of all the trades
Or the queen resting in shades
Where headless flowers sing
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it begs and sometimes it hurts just the same
even when there's not a single outstreching
in a snowflake masterfully open for the palm of myself
we can fall, it's easy, all it takes is a hand
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The question was crying in the corner
In spasm fingers casting
Delivery pains of questions
In a trembling body revealing
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From behind all the twilights and evening shadows
Under all the covers
And you who do the night rims vigils
Under all sand clocks
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and say hello to some of your dreams
they keep resting on your oblivion morn
of the wake and hours of sleepless nights
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You want conversations per detoxications
Intellyjelly fish to glide
Right to your side to be satisfied
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I cannot even see
what they have become of thee
a scare's for a crow and shoes are for a show
and things there are that must go on
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