Insomnia

Martin Vlado: Insomnia

I have read that before
there is something like orgasm

I haven’t slept again
I’m an undisciplined patient
I’m not counting the lambs

but even if I slept and if sweet
were a sum of bitter and bitter
a rope would exist

in one of the goblets of a five shoulder chandelier
the wings of a brown butterfly are fluttering

in one of the coffee bars a heated discussion
about shades is taking place at this moment

but a dead
colour

is flowing down the same living one

to press
the thumb and index finger
to the nose bridge

is to call somebody

too early and too long
dinner in the house of a dead

I’m sitting and sitting:
fairy tale about the crow
and crow

a girl is playing
with a straw hat

until she casts down her eyes
until she covers her lap with it

all the syllables for her
will die deeply in my throat

girlish fingers

slim long
trembling

as when you are picking
the herbs

and not thinking of a tea