TE15 Lithuanian Honey Cake

eight poems

AWalk through Lukiškių Square, January 8 bewitched: the fingers of linden trees with nails peeled off hiccuping

like well-sweeps in puffs of wind benches with twisting

backs of their necks feet curled like snails exploding buds of Stalinist lamps smelling of sulphur rooks of heated brass beating their beaks against butts

on the yellowed grass pigeons fed on the dust

of Dominican pants shooting in kits from St. Jacob’s church like salvos of the cruiser Aurora

those fingers of boughs are like mine (yours) – those blossoming lamps are my (your) eyes –


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