touching up an oldie – guess this would be an Ode to Bucharest

the concrete requires no storm
permission to rain and select chunks just wait
as slabs that reside under mills tend to not care
about racked up decades and just yawn
when Mister Richter cuts loose a sneeze;
a six or maybe a seven
is bound to take a cue from the underground
rail network and true it would be

one way if a bloody and bony way,
to deal with the walls of concrete clouds
yet when the bony and bloody
and please welcome the dusty and now here comes
the crybaby demand to include
the shitty, messes are all mopped and priests
cross the clock in overtime chanting
and the dealers in incense really make

a killing; float away to retire
in Venice or Barcelona,
enough dogs will survive as dogs forever
survive and that and the slatted aero
slits through which a sunflower
husk-cracking wave will wash, things will
strangely feel about the same as when
the tongues began to Latinize.


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in bucharest, poetry, romania, travel and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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