They have a yard
with benches and grass and pot plants
all that
with lighters and cigarettes and smoke
all that
it's a square and surrounded by high walls made out of bricks and glass
all that
the benches don't face each other
one in every corner and when you sit you look at bricks
and glass
glass that forms windows which can't be opened
they don't have a rain shelter
when it rains the floor turns dark and all you hear is splashing
when it rains
and rains
for days
sometimes
don't the plants die? won't they overflow with water and drown?
It's mostly empty on overflowing days
people smoke and leave
smoke and leave
light their cigarette and
smoke and leave
it's mostly crowded on bright days
people smoke and talk
smoke and walk
smoke and laugh
and often
heart shattering often
people smoke and cry
smoke and yell
smoke and fight
but there's a consistency
they always smoke
sometimes they sit
often they walk
circles and circles
around benches
around grass and pot plants
they walk and walk in circles, going back and forth
back and forth
but they always end up at the very same place
rarely I see people who don't smoke
who just sit
who just walk
or just talk
or often just cry
and yell
and fight
rarely I see people who don't smoke
who just lay on the ground
or walk around in rain drenched socks
or knock on bricks and glass
glass that forms windows which can't be opened
who wave around
sometimes I see him
when I see him
he smokes
rolled in beige pueblo, filter inserted on the right side
slim filters
he has an honest smile
YOU ARE READING
Y E L L O W_
Poetryi always carried my heart in my hands not on my tongue_ + + + das hier geht an mich.
