Observer by Kanev Peycho

I am feeding on sunshine
and fading moon light,
pouring my poems into bottles of wine
and later find them on the bottom

I walk;
I lick the morning mist from
the street-cars and dream about their
desire

most of the times I am lazy like
Sunday morning,
and at some other times I pace across
the projects and the gutters of the city
where all the stars of the world blazed
for the first time

but

where are you right now Allen G. to show
me how to smoke joint or roar Ommmmm;
where are you dwelling Robert F. to teach
me how to shake hands with the big wigs;
where are you Ezra P. to find out how not
to go mad or speechless or old or dead;
where are you smiling Robinson J.?
I know-with your sun and eagles and loneliness.

I will try
not to be like you
when right now I don’t look even like myself.
You wrote the right words
and I will drink this bottle right now
without thinking of you for the rest
of the day.


Kanev Peycho, Chicago, IL, USA