Poems

Six Green Polish Chairs

Salt leaking inside the rock
Rock thrown away through the mirror
With a mouth beyond the objects
Objects leaning toward oblivion
Whose pale pieces
Are spinning in the mirror
Those six green polish chairs might have travelled to a café
Do you remember the year of star and pinwheel?
No
The year of Russian bicycle and snow?
No
The year of hill and canary?
No No
I only know that your mouth created the world
And the objects got released from inside the fog
And the prettiest rock was left for your face
When I wore the green skirt,
You laughed and said:
Night drowns in the face of the prettiest rock
These six green Polish chairs
May return home
To retell their memories
With a green skirt
And a mouth beyond the objects

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