I live in a former hotel’s former buffet room
(first floor, white veranda)
and have a multitude
of neighbours

on four steelconcrete floors
they eat on me

on four steelconcrete floors
they lie down on me

on four steelconcrete floors
they push around furniture

alongside is a small forest, there
it’s even more horrible: a jackdaw colony

eats, sleeps, hatches children, shits
on everyone, tugs on intestine ends
stolen from the butcher’s - what
celebration, what a happening, how much
noise, croaking and jumping

you see - and there a jackdaw
poet: sarcastically opening
his beak totally insincere
the shame of the jackdaw colony

scoffer, insurgent, tied
by the leg to a tree branch head
down - he’d not be a bad
friend: too bad he’s dead.


© 2004 by Gintaras Grajauskas