HALFWAY
Halfway there
no signs grow.
The moss is mossier
and trunks are thicker.
Thoughts refuse to take detours.
Sweet circling rots,
heats an overheated body,
wrapping it in vile sweat.
The smell of old.
Everything is the same; old.
Halfway there
I forget where we’re going.
We walk side by side,
and we have nowhere to be.
(Free?)
POLOVICA
Na pol poti
ne rastejo znaki.
Mah je bolj mahast
in debla debelejša.
Misli nočejo več po ovinkih.
Sladko kroženje gnije,
greje pregreto telo.
V ogaben pot zavija.
Vonj po starem.
Vse je po starem.
Na pol poti
pozabim kam grema.
Hodima vštric
in nikamor nama ni treba.
(Svoboda?)
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Because, you know, poetry is easy ... but getting attention is hard(er). 😂
