LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
Golden Era
A void is interposed here; I find the chance to say
my spiteful words
then I drink two glasses of wine at the Golden Era
tavern;
at the end, as usually, I’ll wet myself but I’ll dry up
well day after tomorrow
I, of course, would prefer the lentils but I eat them
with not much desire
that I at once become a suspect; finally the garden
guard sends me away, but his gesture, like punishment,
will remain anonymous and
I get lost at the far end of the road like magic
with bad teeth or
I may give some lessons in forgiveness behind
the sofa;
however tonight I have no time, I’m in a hurry, I stop
the passersby and ask for directions
since I certainly must take these buttons to the devil
otherwise how can the night pass?
And every so often I pull the drawer to make sure
my childhood hand is still there
and one day it will knock at my window.
Libros Libertad 