on couch I lay rewinding the movie…

the space followed by time followed the clock—

ding-dong               ping-pong               sing-song

several sounds             noise

a hotchpotch                a yarn               a twister

Brando wept wistfully                 Kate smiled

Hopkins roared               Hanks strolled

a tea cup was breeding a storm

violent               uncontrollable               rare

several threads were intertwined with each other

the writer could not so I had not been able to stop the storm

at least I could save the tea cup from violence…

the darkness had an overwhelming authority

the light could just stop the winds of darkness to breed the storm…

I never liked the storm but the tea cup was a tea cup

it had to feel the heat of the cold wind…

indeed I always need spin and yarn, sometimes mink, but I didn’t know

how to curb the heat that brought storms…

I could smile with Kate but

like a deer she frolicked here and there

her unpredictability very predictable

Marlin Brando did not frolic

but I couldn’t find him smiling despite a lot of efforts

obstinate               peevish               haughty

egoistic               arrogant               irritating

London was quite away from Paris and Lisbon from Warsaw

but the space of time brought them closer

I took the measure book and calculated the threads in-between

but to no avail…

away               far               distant                         synonyms were many…

I brought a geometry book              Pythagoras smirked

I broke the rules of the ruler, and the D, and the compass

the equator never existed there before that but I just saw equator

squeezing the soil of Europe               boring               torturous               complex

I took a box made of water and put into it

words: love, beauty, anger, pain, suffering, heat, chill, life, romance, death

but the box was only into water tight compartments…

I took the compartments out and made a single whole of water

all words inundated flowed with the waves…

but they flowed themselves          I who swam very wonderfully some time ago

could just drift with the hyper waves

I never liked those waves

I contacted Mozart               Beethoven had invited him at the ballroom practice

I hated the dance but had to find the maestro                ballrooms were never my choice

both Mozart and Beethoven were not choices to each other               why invitation then?

I didn’t know               I just dropped a detailed letter in two Xerox copies to both

thinking it a libretto, they left the ballroom and started searching the actors…

the hall was huge, full of actors, actresses, but no one listened to them               I left…

when I reached the last station

I had the fear several stations had been missed               I wanted to note them, actually…

subsequently  the first station was to be knocked

I knocked almost all stations but found no coolie anywhere…

but so doing I had to eat a lot of fruit and take several beer bottles

I never liked beer when wine was available                but the choice compelled me…

a time came I visited the desert               full of thorns, spines, bushes, and

above all sand that drifted with winds that corroded my skin

I could see no bird perch anywhere

animals had to justify their existence but the heat on the blistering sand

justified itself the best

my eyes tried to spot something, someone, somewhere, but

thirsty                exhausted               bored               wounded               teary

eyes wanted to rest and still

I lay on the couch rewinding the movie…