The three stacks right behind York Avenue
weren’t flamingo, but headless swans
running away from the mist guillotine.

A cloud rib hurt by Empire State Building
drains purple rain,
blue cloudoglobine,
wets the black plastic bags
on the sidewalks
and wakes them up,
small nocturnal beasts
dangerously flashing gnawer eyes,
ready to jump on you from behind,
bite your back with rodent hunger,
thru your shoulder holes to make the nests.

How I hate
that ugly
death!
I’d like
to be
cut up
to pieces
by exact
decisive
terminal
strokes.

The moon spies on me
hidden after walls on Street 68,
some fear wears her out every day,
“la luna busso”, white capped sister, cold
like a forgotten cup of tea
on a hospital night-stand
where the lemon slowly sweats
sad as a never squeezed breast.

I go through this road with moon, coarser
then the brush of some Dutch impressionist,
the milk of moon dripping off my hair.

Out of subway gorge at Hunter College
might surface any time urban vampires,
canine civilized by orthodontia.
Furious men from the last show poster
shoot me endlessly,
not realizing they’ve already killed me,
or perhaps they do
and still slay my corpse
in dire desire:
aphro-disiac, morgue & Moulin Rouge.

A minor fish instinct pulls
toward the jaw of subway 6,
Hunter College -
I feel like prey.

Wagon with mutants,
Martian skin,
jeans
endlessly free
falling
over the endless genital areas.
A young scream
loses its way
through the labyrinth of my gorge:
pull those wretched
pants
up!
Up to the throat,
tight
to the last
hole
of the belt
stretched!

A hungry artist collects fees
of his show nobody asked him for.
He hates my
train face.

A stranger’s hate
is like a one night stand,
no history,
but still intense.
His right to express himself
and mine for silence
fought like young street dogs.

My right
whimpered,
weakened by past hits
of thousands train brakes
and Sunday morning patriotic radios.
My right fell down below my knees
in saggy style.

59th Street!
The moon here
looks like Aspirin,
insoluble crystal,
ready to corrode ulcers in the glass stomach
of Manhattan.



11 Komente

 m'pëlqen anglisht. 

FLM! smiley

(ps. gjithe kjo seria e manhatannit eshte konceptu n'anglisht ne fakt, s'kish si tjeter, prandaj ndoshta)

me too... smiley

Ne anglisht tingellon ndryshe.

Poet je ti? E jotja eshte kjo poezia?

Poet je ti?

I wish... smiley

You wish? Aman, se si "lulja mos me prek" jane. Me nje fjale goje i shtrin pertoke. Po ca do me thene kjo: "Angst momentum"?

momentum eshte koncept fizik, i ngjashem me "drive". Pra nje lloj shtyse (shpesh penguese) qe vjen nga frika/droja, qe them se shume kush e provon ne manhattan.

sa per I wish, nuk di si e kuptove, po llafin e pata sic e perdorin ktu te pakten, qe qejfi shume do ma kishte, por... sporti eshte i rende shume.

jo lule mosprek me i llaf. tjeter gje fare.

aha, ti do te thush lule nga ato qe ... ahaa nga ato qe te ngelin ne dore, aha.  

une nuk e kam provuar kurre ndrojen ne Manhattan.

provo me udhetu ne muzg te vone ne FDR, nga 96 street drejt jugut, pjesa afer Rockefeller University ma jep ate ndjesi gjithnje (flas per vete) me ca gure qiklopike muret peranash, te erret, djathtas ke downtownin me impozant qe mund te behet, majtas ujin, ishullin Ruzvelt, siper para ura madheshtore e Queensboros, dhe te krijohet nje ndjenje shtypese; nje bukuri e frikshme, tamam awe-some. (fjala awe = "A mixed emotion of reverence, respect, dread, and wonder inspired by authority, genius, great beauty, sublimity, or might" e jep sakte fare cfare po them)

Ajo FDR mua ma ka shpif gjithmone, jo vetem naten por edhe diten. Me ka lene nje ndenje tipi, "OK, next".

Ajo qe duhet te besh ti eshte te kalosh nja 3-4 blloqe me poshte dhe futju djathtas. Nuk ke atje turista qe te bezdesin. Ke dhe MOMEN, aty afer.  Pale me marr ndonje biciklete me qerra dhe me bo ndonje xhiro andej nga ato blloqet. eshte fantastike. Ka dhe parqe me lloj-lloj lulesh andej se eshte zone studentash arti e musike etc.

smiley

OK.

Për të komentuar tek Peshku pa ujë, ju duhet të identifikoheni ose të regjistroheni (regjistrimi është falas).