Zoltan Galos Poems

My world

My world is colour
The artist in me splashed all
...

My Vito's cool metallic body
Feels empty
As I stretch the last drops
Of an excellent ouzo
...

At dusk that colours my pallet
Wine red
Clouds like purple cotton plants
The thicket of dry branches
...

Her face not rested
puffed-up cheeks time's
come to test her pride
her desire
...

You don't wish my
young teacher to come here]any longer
you say that she has
tensions you cannot bear
...