On my way back home from my parents' house, my father asleep on his medical bed, I see a sunset pale yellow and brown from naked trees as the car follows the old road. I spot the sign saying Trzuskołoń, 2 km, where my dad was once a boy. We pass the museum, the lake, the cathedral. A trailer on a parallel lane catches my eye, two pigs inside two random boxes on their way to heaven through hell. I can't save them so I say a prayer. Who hears it? What else is there - the endless fields of December green, shopping malls, abandoned factories, cows chewing on the quality of the air, shrines at the crossroads, wild geese flying south, carrying away the answers, key after key.
What did you hear, once or repeatedly, and you still remember it? As a child? 'You shouldn't do it.' Another phrase, from a later stage? 'You had such a mighty future ahead, and wasted it.' What words or images point to your origins? small orange chrysanthemums a rosary made of acorns rusty leaves a little forest down the street a lint tree that used to live with us a yellow gate that wasn't there a dark blue cat a date an altar in the church green space the night sky, ink a book, stuck in the passage way or somewhere else a door the wooden stairs, feet, kissing the steps an alphabet a Mona Lisa cover of a chocolate box a bath made of white enamel weeds red bricks Andromeda arythmetics tamarines sand camels from another land a shepherd and a lamb lupin and rhubarb a shade, a stove a caravan love *** How to write one's own poem? Insert the title, Why I am the way I am, before the list. Read the list. Delight in it. Savour the words & images. (after She...
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