from “C(o)urt Interpretations”

/, Blesok no. 55/from “C(o)urt Interpretations”

from “C(o)urt Interpretations”

Depression
At the Red Snake
Crime and Punishment
Happy Birthday to Me
Family Tragedy
Christmas Poem
In Search of Inspiration
Randol Poem

Today I’ve been abandoned
by my only daughter – the scarecrow.
She left my apartment decidedly, puberty-driven,
and moved to be with her aunt – a genuine puppeteer.
She says she’s fed up with everything,
that playing with round stamps
and computer games no longer satisfy her
even though I’ve bought a flat screen.
She’s not happy with her name – Cassilda.
She’s fed up with the parties I throw for her birthday.
She is mad at me because I refuse to understand her and keep inviting to the bashes
neat Little Red Riding Hood and Princess with her pea.
“I’d rather sleep in an ashtray under the sink at my aunt’s
than in your computer room.
Her place smells of paint and old rags,
You’ve got three hard disks and only one daughter
and you still couldn’t choose in life.”
She refuses to enrol at a university, she earns her own money now.
She makes a living scaring passers-by through a book-shop window.
“A book every week – of your own choice!” she snaps at me:
“You’re a doctor of literature but you can’t cure even a common cold!
I earn so many books I get digestive disorders!
Doctors say a change of scenery would do me good.”
And indeed she left – with Yurymury to Africa –
happy forever.

2018-08-21T17:23:08+00:00 August 3rd, 2007|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 55|0 Comments