Kontrola / Control

Kontrola

Ptice drmusavo zelene boje.
što ubijaju silu teže,
uplašile su se i pobegle.

Rođeni katapulter suza
koji priča kao kineska majica
skakuće po polju mokrih kišobrana
nadajući se da neće pokvasiti cipele.
Pakuje mesečinu u plastične kese,
nadajući se da nikad neće
uništiti negative u sopstvenoj glavi
ili ih, nedajbože, izložiti suncu.

Ne ide to tako.
Nije to tako.
Zaista nije tako,
ni blizu tako.
Nikad neće biti tako.

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Control

Birds of shakey green,
Killing gravity,
Got scared and flew away.

A natural born tear-launcher,
Talking like a Chinese T-shirt
Is skipping through a field of wet umbrellas,
Hoping not to get a single raindrop on those shoes.
Sealing moonlight into the plastic bags
Hoping never to tear the slides
inside of own head apart,
Or get them exposed to light.

It does not work like that.
It's not like that
It's really not like that.
Nowhere near that.
It will never be like that.

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