I prefer not to see the words that I am writing,
so I take a look through the window:
I see a dog walking outside, sniffing at the trees,
pissing in the bushes; white and brown dog,
and this is real enough to believe in it,
but I say:
Oh, brother this is not possible,
because I do not want to look at the words I am
writing right now,
or the words that I am not writing,
but the blue sky laughs,
this wide and grey sky tilts slowly upon my sheet;
this is impossible –
the fog and the brightness in me opens up,
memories of heavy rain or just my fantasies for rain?
The sounds of the approaching storm are crawling
towards me:
I close my eyes –
not wanting to see the words that I am writing,
and I open them up again to see through the window
only this dead dog.
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Peycho Kanev is the Editor-In-Chief of Kanev Books. His poems have appeared in more than 600 literary magazines, such as: Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Hawaii Review, The Monarch Review, The Coachella Review, Third Wednesday, Black Market Review, The Cleveland Review, In Posse Review, Mascara Literary Review and many others.
