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Manic Meadow
Published Oct 12, 2023
Updated Oct 12, 2023
Culture
1 min
Culture
Published Oct 12, 2023
Updated Oct 12, 2023
1 min
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315 readings
Manic Meadow
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There is something sudden in these forested fields.
Circular thoughtlessness. My most peaceful dreams
lead me into the green after all, toward undulating
nothingness. I walk down
cobblestone steps.
The clearing is archaic. It is not quotable.
Nonetheless, there is something attractive
about my recharging. Like to a gas station, I come
for fuel. Diluted, deranged time.
In the drumming soil, a water vein zigzags. Morse code
of the ancestors. This, too, is part of my meadow. Strands
of my hair cling to the root system.
In place of Moons, the Brain shines in the sky,
showing its dark side to another planet.
Orange vodka runs along its mouth. Or strawberry
froth. It’s just coming to from fainting.
translated by Timea Sipos
315 readings
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