Image for the poem Ethereal


He went there,
didn't want to but he went
even he paid for the taxi.

The house was old,
walls with moldy designs
of endless years and slovenly dwellers.

He put the key in the door,
he entered, stopped in the center of the room,
there were ghosts in the attic he was sure.
He walked up the aisle, or down the aisle,
it matters little, he opened one, then another, door.

He breathed the spirits of the place,
felt penetrated, invaded,
souls and dust stuck to the nasal mucosa,
macabre sinusitis of forgotten deaths.

He desecrated the house with dense eyes
of search and despair.
The echo of the years pierced eardrums, retinas,
a faint rustling of dry leaves
archived in memory, fire crackling,
birth and death certificates.

The wallpaper had come off and,
hanging, it stabilized on glue-addicted snails.
His blood ran across the kitchen walls,
execution of chickens and hot soups of feverish nights.
There was a putrid empty smell of fruit on the tiles.
and stubborn flies fed on the memories
of leftover love and food.

He strangely didn't see any mice,
maybe they couldn't stand the absence
of a scraping of chairs and screams.

Through the windows of patient cobwebs he saw:
Occasionally dry rose bushes, no flower, many thorns,
where she had often left pieces of lace,
pieces of skin, childhood games.

He saw himself dressed as a sailor, wandering around the house,
pursued by a brother or a slipper,
on impulse he ran through the house again,
time machine, time stopped,
he stopped at the door of the old room,
he extended his hand, did not open, half turn,
the tear devoured the dust from his face in a straight line.

Key in the door, he went out and stopped on the sidewalk,
he got into the taxi, didn't look back.

The house remained, glued to the rearview mirror - he went there -
he didn't want to but he did.

Fingers on keys, electronic sounds, yes, yes, Mr. So-and-so...
I would like to know if your proposal is still standing...
Yes, that's right, I decided to sell... the house...

There he was, a stranger to himself,
he had made a memory withdraw and now
deposited it in the bank.

He went there, he didn't want to, but he did.

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