pandora's box

i dreamed of my crooked hands again
the recuring dream of my life
bones all twisted and dislocated
fingers pointing in different directions
no pain, just inconvenience
i try to fix it, pulling the bones
to their right places
futile, as always
i wake up to a phone call
too slow to answer it
check the caller from internet
someone's trying to sell something
i have no money, or interest in products
without pharmacological qualities
so i brew some coffee and blow my nose
i've been eating a lot of zinc
and kept the box closed
still my nose keeps running
one by one the leaves are severed
i can see them fall all the way
across my window
'shouldn't you be somewhere,
doing something?' someone asks
inside my head
'shouldn't you?' someone answers
it's not a long conversation
i guess i should make use
of the precious time i am given
so before saving the whales
i'll brew another cup of coffee
and pick up another book

overrated
a bit inflated, i guess
with all the hype
not worthless, anyway
as good as any other

as good as the butcher
whistling a tune
while slicing the pig

as good as the kitchen drainpipe
stuck with grease

as good as my big black shoe
waiting at the door

as good as the shiny matador
dodging a bull
before a bloodthirsty crowd

yet it moves, and keeps rotating
and the dust keeps cheering

caught a fly from the air
and melted an iceberg
tricked the sun
set the sky ablaze
and put the moon
in my pocket
all for amazing grace

spent all my merit
to keep the wheels turning
saved only the last penny
for tossing a coin
at the next crossroads

-

you are radiant there
pouring coffee in a red bathrobe
like a new day being broken open

and there's some september dew

on the window too

i know no words can comfort you now
  so i remain silent

please, drain to the ground
said the sewers
to the rainwater
you're not needed here
not any longer
you've gone sour
not sweet anymore
go, drain to the ground
you know there's a place
you have been before

ok, said the rain
i will pour to the ground
but before that
i will wet everything

tell me, is it autumn already?
has the time finally come?
i think i feel it has

we were waiting for this
so eagerly
and now it's begun

just a pinch
do not be afraid
this happens every time

behold
we are being baptized

it's awfully quiet
they have all disappeared
to foreign countries
to the lands of green grass
and better tomorrows
to insane asylums and hospitals
to the arms of the gentle grave
to rave in some another party

i'm here
like i was a century ago
watching them drift by
watching the looms spin
letting the threads run through
with too much time
and with too much sentiment

the phone doesn't ring
neither does it answer
i'm neck-down paralyzed
listening to the perfect silence
of entire universe
raging under some glass lid