Thursday, September 27, 2012

sometimes shaken

sometimes shaken by this steadiness
earth keeps turning around the same kind
in each morning’s encounter of absentness, eyes
looking slightly passed my steps, the man
who sleeps behind the smell of trash containers
I almost fall
over the dirt, while cows keep chewing plastic
with this sturdiness, big black birds land on their backs
a few metres up the road, a tiny old woman sits
on her wagon of vegetables, people buy
meat, freshly slaughtered fish on ice,
nothing stays long
in this heat, except for the smile of the guard
waking all night, walking into my dim room 
with bright eyes, making me wonder, how on earth
can I be sad