Since it’s ‘Women’s Day’ back in Estonia, here’s a poem I wrote about a girl.


One morning on the street
a girl was walking past a store window
and in my mind I heard an imaginary sound
where everybody yelled and jumped
and the whole world jumbled around
“Hey” I wanted to say
or play piano off-key
make strange notes and my mind dizzy
I look at her and see myself immemorial
running home to write poems
about the way her black hair hides her eyes
or whatever
Christ, girls
1st, 2nd, 3rd circle
I read in some acting book
a way to ground yourself
and lean back into reality and a solid base
surround yourself in immense choruses
but fuck, it would get lonely
this inner sense of…
lack of girls?

Five minutes later you don’t care
I still care
cold and broke and poor
high on the wild sound of the wind
rambling down the mountains
centuries of the same thing
all that cracking the hot, weird asphalt
the hot black smoke
I’m dreaming
her whatever-colored eyes
on me
and everything stops
she’s wild and humane and beautiful
lips shining at my direction
And it is sincere even with
spikes around her neck
But it was that silent, clarity, fantastic
hum of those eyes like rain
end of the world love
that got me that time

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