Circular letter
Körlevél
Don’t answer, – the circular letter is knocking now,
I’ll put empty words to work for a buck
- the blood plows me through with a hot plow,
and in bad ears the sound gets stuck.
My red star face breaks down into a lesson, - now the big secret is budding to remain
my holy message penetrates to the bone heaven,
and my dead heart will love again.
I carved the mirage from poems’ dream space,
you act on the edges of the new laws’ way, - gallop after it then practice the race
- you, too can succeed one day.
The thought struck me a few times, - I put on a deadly mask, how I look,
like a yellowed vagrant skeleton, it lies,
it kicked the threshold with half a foot.
Some lines melt into the minute,
my pocket is loaded with bold pulse, - the title invites you to take a walk in it,
which I sprinkle with noble gold dust.
It was a colorful drama that kept me in good condition,
pagan December brings a mission,
the voice squealed in my waistline,
and my circular also reached the finish line for the seventh time.
Manolis Aligizakis 