The plum trees, the cherry trees,
all showered in alabaster blossom
in the middle of deserted cities
rustling ghostily.
The uncertain period
of the incubation time needed for blossoming
is being carefullly stored away into the timeless draws
followed by sharing empty hastags-
or is it our own emptiness that’s being shared?
At the zebra crossing
the synapsis and the steps of the drunken boy
have reached a finishing line here.
Shortly after the Resurrection Sunday,
Jesus takes off his costume
and compassionately puts on a purple medical mask.
The neighbour waters his grass with the waterhose.
We eat two dollops of icecream (mango and butterkers),
mixed together with our melted identities
as we press on the buttom
to mute the rest of the world.
Empty hashtag
Slivky a jablone kvitnú alabastrovou inovaťou
vo fantómovom šume vyľudnených miest.
Neistú dobu
inkubácie rozkvitnutia
ukladáme do poličiek časoprázdna.
Šérujeme prázdne hashtagy
/empty hashtags/
či vlastné prázdnoty?
Na prechode pre chodcov
končia synapsie krokov opitého chlapca.
Po pašiových hrách
si Ježiš sníme kostým
& opätovne nasadí fialové ochranné rúško.
Sused poleje trávu hadicou.
Dva kopčeky zmrzliny- Mango & Butterkeks -
zjeme s rozpustenou identitou.
Zas tu máme ďalší Babylon
vypíname svet stlačením gombíka.
