Poetry – Slave Gjorgjo Dimoski

/, Literature, Blesok no. 151/Poetry – Slave Gjorgjo Dimoski

Poetry – Slave Gjorgjo Dimoski

Up to the bare bone
Angel with face turned aside
Skin my skin
Supper (the last?)
Miss depression

Supper (the last?)

Afterward, in the Mount of Olives

when they fell asleep having

too much wine

The supper fell under suspicion

The Bread he blessed

it wasn’t just his body

the Wine – his blood

But then, wherefrom

The idea about Judas?

Traitor. Saboteur. Profiter.

And that inexperienced boy

stands over a table with twelve empty chairs

and holds the cup in which the wine is flaming.

From it

(of his blood?)

He’s left to drink.

He, too!

AuthorSlave Gjorgjo Dimoski
2023-10-01T12:27:07+00:00 September 9th, 2023|Categories: Poetry, Literature, Blesok no. 151|Comments Off on Poetry – Slave Gjorgjo Dimoski