Habitatum

Photograph: ©John Stadnicki

I bring white little stones from the market

and place them, like pills, in long straight lines on my desk.

 

Although full of stuff, my body lives at the top floor –

with a view towards a perfect car park.

 

I watch the beheadings through a narrow hole in the sky

and

I point a fully-loaded gun against the world.

 

The earth rests

suspended between wild heavens and landscaped gardens.

 

And yet the sun is still rising above the silent bell ropes,

hanging loose among people who stand up to

look at the death pit as if

nothing has happened.

 

©Maria Stadnicka

 

First published in Your One Phone Call, Wales, available here

(August, MMXVII)

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