A tree rots in the forest unnoticed.
Lichen trims bark. A raucous reek.
The bruised framework sinks into the earth.
A woman with a man's physique treads the path sobbing.
The night telephone above the table takes a bite out of the darkness.
A dog that begins to howl in its sleep,
as if it weren't supposed to be alive anymore.
Power over words is power over things.
We sleep and have everything — relations,
a favorite restaurant, happy home.
But something here's not clicking. Not only words.
- Milan Dezinsky, trans. from Czech by Nathan Fields