The huge wash basin

I' m washing with axion damn it

It' s draining through my fingers as if

I crush a silk worm in my fist

I' m washing the dishes and I'm thinking of somebody nacked

walking in my tired memory

one, two, three plates

knives, spoons the sponge slipping

from the north pole to the south pole

the whole universe in a wash basin

with dishes, inox ladle, coffe cups

with grounds, butts

sometimes an angel comes on my shoulder

fluttering its wings like a night bird

while the radio is announcing

new international conflicts

someone is fighting someone else

while I' m washing the dishes and boiling the water

my mind is sliding to a woman who

won' t  leave my overloaded memory

she touches her red lips

gently

to understand  I  should be silent