every day i watch

fun quiz shows on television

and try to answer before the contestants do


one thursday

someone joins me in the common room


i lie on the sofa,

he stares at me,

his eyes throw daggers


                    a person employed

                    by the government or some other organization

                    to secretly obtain confidential information


for a moment

my eyes confirm his existence,

our eye contact is charged with violence


                        a spy?

          the question echoes

     vibrates through the room


he picks up the phone

or pretends to

and says

you can bring the knives tomorrow


fear roars out of him

and pours into me,

it melds with my psychosis

and flows back into him


we both sit and tremble,

wanting to skin

each other’s faces


when the show ends,

we run to our rooms

AuthorPino Pograjc
2023-10-01T11:57:19+00:00 September 9th, 2023|Categories: Poetry, Literature, Blesok no. 151|Comments Off on Poems