poems by Peycho Kanev 

big night in small room without stars

tell me are you crazy, she said
tell me, are you crazy or what, you just can’t act like
this,
you just can’t drink each night and scream at the people
on the streets and the cops,
oh my God,how can you talk this way to the cops?
are you crazy, she said.

why are you grinning like an idiot?
you need some help. you need some help.
why are you grinning like that at me?

ok, you bastard, I am going home
what about that?A?you will miss that ass,
I’m telling you.

when she closed the door I picked all the empty bottles
from the floor and smash them in the wall, one after another
bringing the only sound in my life
and later the cops came by my door demanding  to know
what was that noise
and I told them:

there are dead people on the streets and gladiolas and elephants and
belly dancers and bugs with fluffy wings
but there is only one cure for pain.

Devil got my woman

one cigarette between the fingers
in the stereo sits Skip James
and my girls look at me
I took a sip from the wine glass and
a puff from the cigarette

why when I take look at you for a long time
always want to hit you in the face
she said

I took another sip and
said

my heart is a drum
I said

what?

my heart is a drum,baby

I don’t…

see,when you are in the music store
and you see the drums
you always feel the urge to hit them,
right?

she looks at me
mute

I smile from the inside
because she doesn’t know the whole truth
what her sisters before her did to me
but she doesn’t  has to know

I got up and
kiss her
wet

she is happy for the next 15
minutes

and
this is more than I need.

in spite of everyone

the humanity destroys
humanity

as I lean toward the wooden bar
and the old bartender
gives me another refill
and keep calling me Boy
I look at the faces around me
beautiful and gentle
as summer leaves

we know that all the sadness
of the world is for everybody
else

outside the night
nod at us
with smile.

no change at all

this day is dusty
and dark, the fingers refuse
to push the buttons
they grip the short cigarette and
shake,
I listen the music that abandons the
radio
and the brain records
the surroundings,
here it is:

I’m watching this white cover
with the red stains,
I see this overfilled ash-tray
as the day continue…

I open a beer and drink it
thirstily
and everything becomes more and
more shady.
Yes. That’s
better.
I see in the bed two long legs like
highways
and I ask myself :

wasn’t  I alone in the room?

I stretch my hand slowly
to touch them….

silence.

something like a snake, something like a knife

lost in the world
lost in the word
oh, my presumption of the present
and, yes, my hands like anthills
strangling this tiny place that I exist,
bring me the light of your torch,
because I toss back the Lie of The Art
and the falseness of God and Time,
crawl with me into tomorrow and your
redemption will be my revenge
for this world
for this word
for this sad sad being

oh, my bitter memories

all this viciousness percolating through
my senses of hell and fields without fences,
all your thoughts penetrating that black space
where we exist but we look for something bright
with our faces looking up

waiting for the light
or for the eternal darkness.

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