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Michael Witkowski

of

Sehnde, Lower Saxony, Germany

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Trapper's Night

by

Michael Witkowski

hi Magool, was out on a mite-night out with 5 mates
Petty wonders can happen- the count of heads
Multiplies the wonder if liquid is poured heavily

Don’t believe the red bull - its wings drown in a pool
Of booze like night like with mates painting town mad
Pee in the corner bay the dog snicker and bully the quiet

Whatshisname followed my trace through whole bar- got
My face coined into his heavy straw head- straw lines
Leave his mouth- come here often, want a drink- oh bless!


Scissors

by

Michael Witkowski

White lush metallic
fruits of jobless hands
ask armies of adverts
who made your piece-
maybe a heap of scrap?

rusty design resembles
sugar crusts burnt on oven plates
clatter in your hands- weep
not, you will find better steel
than meticulous plastic

but i rather grip it out
of your hands- haphazard
toll this one may become
in quirkiest tewnsion alive
among splits of yourself

who you are books can tell
witnessess, daily passengers
the dust of the stréet can too
the cat that miaowed at you
when you leapt back - not to

cross its way between a pack
of chicken pox and hare gums
a white cat it was but still
your bad charm- your creative
spirit is endless

Sage

by

Michael Witkowski

A frag so the folk knows
sits in my throat- aye but
i feel a rasper where honey
should flow- i di´sdain all
iron as i am peace loving mind

Wish my eyes were sending out X rays
or replace a CT, or endoscope
a look down my trachea would
show to my mind redden rough
mucuos membranes -cleed up with-
i save you the graphic description

Lice

by

Michael Witkowski

Nervous lice creep on me
crib-crabble shaking my
earthen jaw but i stand
but mend my spurs with
which i bid my fury to jump
over hurdles, road blocks
traffic jams and
nervous lice but i did not
employ

Haze

by

Michael Witkowski

Wasted might in a flurry
Took on too much burden
but still i tried to fit

overreached myself-phew
a sigh a sigh i can sigh

time to sort my thoughts
but nooone waits for me
no message- no nod , still-

this Kurdish Nevroz New Year's
Bash might suit me a dash
but undulating doubts fret me

up inside- if my company appals me?
i wonder- but which do i have?
staying somewhere going nowhere

staying put in midst of primal angst
like everything tumbles under my feet
feed are dragged down my silly ghouls

Moony Nothing

by

Michael Witkowski

Sunny-
moony dark rather
meet charged with
anticipating joy

crest of the days
did not live up
to expectations

cool welcome cool
smile- "What's up?"
I, both fearful of

a negative otcome
and cheering joy
tried to relax, set

my mind free from
the cramp of angst
and over-strung

expectations- she
did not hug me but
she enquired "What's

up?" because my face
is red- still, no
mirth, no joy to see

me, not even asking
for the CDs she wanted
i had to ask her twice

She said: "If you like"
She will give me others
in return but this all

we share- no emotional
cord, no friendship, just
a swap between strangers

or remote acquaintance
i made up my mind- 54
only freaks me out and

moony sunny is not a
friend of mine- she
reproached for not

keeping a secret even
though i blabbed out
nothing