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Four Poems by Anita Pajević

2015/8/26 — 14:04

【Text by Mirza Puric】

"technically speaking, you’ll clasp her to your knees. / you’ll clean her fish ponds / to make her laugh."

houpačka

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it morned. godded.

thin soup enspooned on the stove.

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an emotion to match. an H on the access tabulations,

in lukewarm plates. like H, like morn.

i didn’t go to the Hraveyard with dad.

not even when things prayered down on him.

 

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