Replacement

We lost our limbs around the house

In long frenzy games

Becoming couple of decrepit dolls

With sad empty eyes

Nobody watched anymore

And even thin blue clouds

Wee passing careless

Through our cheap fabric bodies

We were so proud before.

Couldn`t move or speak anymore.

Only see violent pictures

Of more and more restless winds

Moving away with ferocious claws

Our tiny hands, our feet

We used to wash every evening

Before going to bed.

Now, diluted in heaven.

In no time our masters

Set different toys on the shelves.

Our places.

Posession

I`m filling my skull

With cubic water and salt

Turn my summer vent on

And start sailing inside.

Finally

The ocean is mine.

Hope

I`m a silly little boy

With white beard and wrinkles

Hoping

The spring never ends

Driving

I`m driving a V8 engine cloud

Above any green vertical limit

With strong American tires

Touching attic of trees.

Such a modern, glittering speed

Engulfs the blow of the winds

Lifting my white classical fabric

For plain indecent exposure.

No previous parts left on earth to be seen.

No flesh and no bones.

Just the redeemable soul.

Besides, no accidents to report

To police. No demerit points.

Only driving for free.

Nails

Too much time

Didn`t notice

And left my nails grow

Without cutting off their enthusiasm

Until I got unsigned letters

And anonymous phone calls

From remote inhabitants

Complaining about being

Unevenly scratched.

Poems by Francisc Pal