Empty Glass

agosto 18, 2009

 The evaporated thoughts,

the blood running to the gutter

looking for an empty glass.

 The mindful life

the storm falling scandalous,

the anguish for a glass of water.

The whimsical tulips,

the thirsty wheat fields dying,

the beer in the glass getting warm.

The arrogant sculptures,

the sweaty dragonflies mating,

the hands embracing emptiness.

 The unbearable heat,

the unexpected pouring of June,

the emptiness buried with hail.

 The grandmother smiling,

her daughter dreaming of sunsets,

the precise pray healing empty souls.

The suspicious breathing,

the hidden erotic feelings,

the painful and empty childhood.

The stunned anxiety,

the words tied by its hands,

the ideas flooding the glass.

 The indecent summer,

the idleness lying on clouds,

the empty glass over my chest.

(by Alberto Bremermann)

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