I’m stuck here… and the slush drips, water, mud…
To know nothing again, there’d be one method –
A gas lamp’s in the throes, it’s there, it’s not there, –
An alcoholic crosses the dismal square.
Soaked in the heavy dampness the town sleeps.
Between these walls she too sleeps, perhaps, –
Houses of iron in brick houses,
And the heavy doors close.
Upstairs the quiet humming of a piano;
Struck like a gloomy sack in the clouds, my shadow –
Drops spurt,
It’s snowing slops,
From a window, in a vase,
A yellow rose looks down..
(George Bacovia)
More Poetry from George Bacovia:
George Bacovia Poems based on Topics: WaterReaders Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Water PoemsBased on Keywords: slush, dampness, snowing, spurt, slops, alcoholic
- Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal (Lucretius Poems)
- Out Of The East (John Freeman Poems)
- Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto III. (Matthew Prior Poems)
- Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 03 - Atomic Forms And Their Combinations (Lucretius Poems)
- Rhodon And Iris. Act III (Ralph Knevet Poems)