BATHE MY HAND IN YOURS
Storms pass in Kerala, I fraternize with tigers.
Strange, strange. I died then, too, but
the boat protected me. White ant, black bush.
White bush, black ant. They told me:
wait. In two years, we can settle with
Korea, then we'll dedicate ourselves
to you. If you like it recite it. Luckily,
they did not settle with Korea. Milan
Kučan skipped and whistled with the boss,
and behind him and Havel I totally heeled.
No one touched the bones in my hands
again. Cute boys lined up by sect, CIA
and NKVD, but the report said that my
Metkec chose, to choose the right guru.
TO SOFTEN THE TOUCHMARK WITH A FROTH
With your country complexion, you
with storms. The tuft is in the axle's
flowers' bed. The bird
upshifts, and around the bend drifts
along its circumferent.
Its corona revolves.
the horns of the snails.
The cats mobilized
under the waterfall. They said:
see how it will burn,
it's gonna be awful when
we purr, and they purred.
DAVORIN'S MOMMY TOOK AWAY HIS SCEPTER AND HID IT
The king of surfaces is selfishness.
The cross is stitched into a dimple.
The spume of my elbow.
The soldier of my dream.
What does Davorin say?
How does he watch you?
No pickpocket not already counted
from celluloid and the painted bird.
Genius is tired and dated.
A piece of white wine
erupts from softened nails.
The sun renders two coats
to add to the pile. He shears
the interior and serves dolls.