I count to 11

Poetry by Peycho Kanev

the impossibility of life is in
its beauty:
the beauty is crazy as flower in
the cemetery-

new life
and old death:
dung-beetle pushing his own
little treasure,
and sunshine, always sunshine

I hit the window
and my phone starts to ring,
I count to 11
and it stops.
somebody wants to speak to me,
to listen to my voice, somebody needs me

I want to set on fire all the pigeons on
the square,
I want to drive my index finger on
the edge of the knife
I will send my love in a package
to Africa

the phone is silent

I water the flowers.

021Peycho Kanev has been writing poetry for the past 10 years. His poems have appeared in more than 400 literary magazines. He is nominated for the Pushcart Award and lives in Chicago. His poetry collection “r” was published in the spring of 2009 by Please Press. His new poetry collection “Bone Silence” was released in September 2010 by Desperanto, NY.}

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