Ivan Dobnik - Vilenica

April
Increasngly our best laid plans
Ricochet off the iron law
(the knacker’s economy thickens the tongue)
Jagged horizon
Laid out for the missile strike
Small pebbles of hope of days to come
Swept away in the icy stream of words fleeing
May
On day we discover a gaping void
Beneath some rotten bulbs
(what’s this a voracious field mouse
in our paper city?)
As long as I do not write
Time turns back on itself
To those women who go off
Without saying a word
down the streets of old shops
June
Several pages into
A book we have chanced upon
Observe the poppy-coloured knight
Hurl his challenge at the storm
A sudden start of wind in the foliage
Small cries near the cherry trees
Do not leave me my child
On this silent road
Where the blank margins consume my need
Such impotence offered up to the clouds
Alain Lance · 393