I find myself
talking to paintings
they repeat my words
to walls of silence behind them
Mother of God has lost her patience
crooked crown
cigarette ash on little Jesus face
she seems to faked her ordeal
pain
orange cat with the looks of Chagall’s man
drunk since morning
keeps raving in the attic of heaven
while Picasso’s Guernica
a sell-able copy
screams back at me with sensations of a dying horse
annoying mess
but finally I understand why Today
turns into the scarcity of Tomorrow
we try to live without time
while Everything stinks with a blink of an eye
watching us
no one listens
because nobody sings
everyone is moaning
******
mowie do obrazow
powtarzaja moje slowa scianom
monidlo matki boskiej nie ma juz cierpliwosci
korona na bakier
popiol z papierosa na buzi dziecka
kot o twarzy czlowieka Chagalla
pijany od rana
bredzi na poddaszu nieba przeklenstwa
Guernica Picassa to sprzedajna kopia
za koniem ide do piekla
wreszcie rozumiem czemu dzisiaj
obraca sie w niedostatek jutra
chcemy zyc bez czasu
a Wszystko smierdzi mgnieniem oka
Wszystko parzy
nikt nie slucha
bo nikt nie spiewa
kazdy jeczy