! This post was written long ago. What you're reading is not necessarily how I feel about things in 2017. This blog was started by an 18-year-old in 2001. Please, keep that in mind before you freak out.

The first poem of 2012. Not really relating to Wrong Star, that 2011 series with bicycles or anything else.


Moj cerebralni kauč ima puškarnicu,
pa u purpurni luk-mesec zurim,
od kako ovo bezvredno jaje postala sam.

Bilo je tiho - sad mi oči gore!
Sad zemičke prašine svrbe!
I ne mogu da se
dan iskoristim.

Kroz tu puškarnicu ja iskočiću,
ako iskrvarim žumance, onda žurim,
ako sam ptica, na štipaljci sam.

Bilo je tiho - sada me snovi jure!
Sada moje stare knjige škripe!
I ne mogu da se
pravilno iscurim,
put perjem prekrijem.



My cerebral couch has a loophole,
So I stare at the purple onion moon.
Since I became an insignificant egg.

It was so quiet - now my eyes burn!
Now the dust buns itch!
And I can't
Turn around,
Turn away,
Sleep the night,
Seize the day.

Through my loophole, I'll jump,
If I yolk out, then it's too soon,
If I'm a bird, I'll hang on a peg.

It was so quiet - now my dreams run!
Now my old books screech!
And I can't
Walk around,
Walk away,
Leak out right,
Or feather my way.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.