‘where should i warm my hands’

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The Worlds
Pentti Saarikoski
the worlds rose
out of the abyss
moved through me          broke
i sat on a blue stool
thus wasn’t walking         yet moved
farther and farther
approached a
comprehension of words until
i turned
no longer cared for them
and now i’m heavy with boredom               games
no longer interest me
children are mean         in all yards
words meaningless        in all yards
where should i take
my fear       disgust         my petrified words
where should i warm my hands
over what fire                 tell me
where do the songs go
no one sings
any more?

Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash