Evil and Heart Options

[saore]

Evil and Heart


He used to wake me up at five a.m.,
eight a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays.
I’d stare into his eyes and ken that skinflint
angel caressing the most obtuse features
seizing my morning thoughtlessness.

All sorts of miracles occurred throughout
the day—tricks of the heart. When
he bought me an alarm. I knew a rook
had made its nest in his trunk. It was

as if he’d moved me back and forth
through dosshouses, I couldn’t sleep.
My friends said I resembled a comma.
That was, of course, until I met Omar.

He’d call me up at five a.m.,
eight a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays,
and grunt like a grizzly bear
without constraints.

My teeth would chatter
and my skin sounded like
roasted, crackling pig.

But my heart never did get over
those everlasting Monday’s when Steve
softly poked whatever cheek he’d choose
to kiss that day and say: honey, wake up!

[Guest_Mostafa Youssef_*]

It is quite sentimental in a dream-like spirit; totally loved the hallucination-like feeling, yet, I do think you might haved needed more tense images and distinguished images of both uncertainity and tranquilty. It is really fine especially the last stanza and the shift.

[Guest_Mostafa Youssef_*]

It is quite sentimental in a dream-like spirit; totally loved the hallucination-like feeling, yet, I do think you might haved needed more tense images and distinguished images of both uncertainity and tranquilty. It is really fine especially the last stanza and the shift.

[saore]

Thank you Mostafa, thank you.

sergio