Stampe 2 Poem by Dorina Neculce

Stampe 2



stamps 2

comes not say
passer
over the shadow
shake a hand so
like a wet bird
bears my people
Slap name into
receive and star
I have that on a map
very old
with howls of wolves
hiena put their
smelling like snout
the taste of blood
(three drops petrified
as our tongues)

Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: archaeology
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