Behind The Curtain Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

every day
the guest on the neck
with binoculars
is playing the detective

when a supple black-haired woman
is leaning out of a window
his hands are vibrating
being sold quickly too low

when she is walking away he like the pigeon
squatting on the window sill between
flowerpots the loud is billing and cooing
gruuuu, gruuuu, gruuuuu,

and in a minute one can already
see the black mop of hair
supple how, is sticking his neck out and his hands
anew are vibrating with redoubled strength
but binoculars temporarily are hanging

gru gru gru gruuu in
a minute champion
behind your curtain
you hen pigeon