115 Poem by RIC BASTASA

listening to a child singing

another innocence
preaches
In a sweet song
From tight lips
A song of love
She barely knows
perhaps
Only has the feel of
A world new to her eyes

Such a song
such fantasy
Good for children
Shall cure a little of this
Big wound that
keeps rotting
In poisonous odors
Such pains
that keep pinning
Hearts that curse
almost
Learning all
blasting blasphemy

Such song for us
all living
Every breakfast time
We dread to remember
we
Who are dumped
in a damp
Loveless locomotion

I hear her sing
to a world
That I already
misunderstood
My tired eyes are wanting
of escape-dreams
My dirty feet shiver
for these rough
Foundations

Ah, sweet song yet
only a child-song
Who can stop such
a short swing to eternity?
And forget
everything
everything
everything
… We can do noting for her
and for her song
we can do nothing too
so we just listen
and go back to our
work
work
work
and
work again.