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P O E S I - FÖR - PETTER

P O E S I - FÖR - PETTER

Bones deep. That sinking feeling. Like a sunken treasure in the ceiling. Of your past. Nevermind, it didn’t last. 

Hector, said the boy. His favorite animal was his favorite toy. The man owed me nothing, replied the cashier. You can go on now, he waved off the kid. The boy found the sunshine peaceful but the dog at the corner threatful. He turned and shook it off, with an act to look tough. He bit off a chocolate bar and treated himself for another day, another everlong summer. 

Floor dirty, shoes clean. There’s a tooth hangin’ from the spleen. Don’t be vulgar, said the voice. It’s just a statue of disgustment. 

Doctor Martin will see you now. The man was mutterin’ from his frown. Doctor who?. Mr. Martin, sir. Ok, thanks. The man with the rusty cap kept his knees clapped and the finger snapped. The corridor made the bruises sore but kept you healing more. For some a bore, others a life war. 

Tickets for sale. Order a TV or a car. Buy a stock and you will get far. Reach for that glimmering star, you can see it from afar. 

The man didn’t wait long for the woman. She had already arrived at the planned spot before he could ask why. Turning around with a cigarette on his lips, the hope in the man’s eyes lit up like the lighter in his hand. The night sky was clear, he was lookin’ for someone dear. Meeting up she felt desired, but after a movie she retired. Gone on a bike, no more love for me tonight.


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