A Scarecrow

by Marcin Malek

It does not hurts
only hands
are sore from writing
carefully punctured numbers
will reveal
origin secret of puppet
dressed festively
as an Easter bowl

I would scream
oh how I would scream
but there are children’s at home
and the silence so rarely
runs through my hall

I feel revulsion to the core
to all those places
anniversaries and celebrations
I'm simply disgust with
inaccurately shaved meat
and I just can't stand
a color and shape of
veterinary supervision stamp

From: 
By one leg




Marcin Malek's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
Marcin Malek (born February 24, 1975) in Warsaw, Poland) is a Polish poet, writer, playwright, journalist. Published mainly in the quarterlies: „Fronda”, „Tygiel Kultury”, „Akcent” and monthlies: „Nowe Państwo”, „Stosunki Międzynarodowe”, „Opcja na prawo”. Winner of the annual award of "Poetry&Paratheatre" journal (category: poem of the Year) for year 2012, (work: „Bieg – Czyli list do współczesnych”/"Run - a letter to the present"). Since 2006 lives Ireland.


Last updated October 02, 2015