Two thousand and twenty

TWO THOUSAND AND TWENTY

is a pseudo-random poem in which absolute predictability is excluded. Certainties – after all, they have never existed – are simulacra in which we consistently believe, not knowing that unpredictability carries so much beauty in itself. Poetry alleviates doubts peculiar to pandemics and it does not necessarily need the most typical words to be poetry in the strict sense of the word. And I take this as an absolute certainty. Another certainty is (or was) the poem below, my New Year’s wish for the year two thousand and twenty, which I would like to use again for next year, two thousand and twenty-one, just to be sure …

One small light – blinking red

on the platform

on my right

the night before

like it was snowing, but it wasn’t

the everyday red signal, blinking.

Parallel to the tracks

as parallel octaves – still forbidden?

the loneliness.

Slowly

the last ride

lost

in morendo and thinking

about good intentions, too much

for everyone else.

In the distance I can see the green light

full light – on my left

waiting for me to arrive

perhaps.

Happy New Year!