the end of my sleep is sneaking
between the light of the bulb and
the alcohol:
I saw you on the street how you
watch the painters working at the faces
of the passing people and the unbearable
buildings, how they suck their pipes and
listen to the intolerable waltzes from their
little radios
now it is midnight
and I am kissing your breasts
I taste your soul as my hands reach out
searching for love in this room sodden
with stink of bread, wine and death
we are walking on the steps of others
before us
and we live within our small summer and
now we are shaking and awaiting the winter
and you look me in the eyes
(what a feeling), somewhere outside
the dogs are barking and cats are sleeping
by the fireplaces:
you want to tell me something,
I light up a cigarette and look into your
eyes
I wait for the oldest curses
of all.
***
Peycho Kanev
Peycho Kanev is 28 years old. He loves to listen to sad music while he drinks slowly his beer. His work has been published in Welter, Gloom Cupboard, Poetry Cemetery, Nerve Cowboy, The Chiron Review, The Guild of Outsider Writers, Mad Swirl, Side of Grits, Southern Ocean Review, The Houston Literary Review, and many others. He loves to put the word down and not talking on the cell phone for days. He is nominated for Pushcart Award. He lives in Chicago. His new collaborative collection, “r”, containing poetry by both himself and Felino Soriano as well as photography from Duane Locke and Edward Wells II, is now available at Amazon.
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