I could have gotten married in Egypt

With one sun ray,

That is masterfully openinig gates of fields

in front of the bus that is frantically rushing

from Cairo to Port Said …

Beside me, the eyes of

Egyptian children are flying by, as fireflies, gentle embers,

while secret papyrus is getting dry

under the foundations of clay houses

overflowed with colors of sun,

a toasted barracks sigh for the waves of the Nile

and seared soldiers are drinking water in the desert as woodpeckers,

helpless but quick.

You can not summon the dead

if theu turn away from you. You can not summon the living

if they turn away from you.

And at the Cairo cemetery the living live there.

From tombstone to tombstone the laundry is drying.

And above the cemetery the antennas are shining as light up chrysanthemum.

And all the flats on the planet earth are cemeteries

from which you should rise as prophets …

Every day, our nothingness, should be tease.

No army should be taken seriously, with weapons.

All skyscrapers are taken for a haircut by wind.

But I fantasize about what I want.

Lumps of clouds and trees are my treasures.

Clean look and a kiss – gold and silver.

One thinks if he has a castle

that he had escaped from death to gold,

the other is seeking immortality in the bedroom through the castle,

the third is publicly showing magic cloak of truth

below which the body converts into the space bird …

Nobody owns the body, until death.

Now I know,

food products from the time of Ramses III were fresher.

The beer from the first wheat and first date palm was drank,

in which the date was not imprinted.

The laces of garlic were celebrated.

The Prayes were sent to the salad that inflamed amorous ardor.

And with space cosmetics, they were fine –

With turpentine resin and incenses they rubbed the desert

to preserve it’s scattered scent of

ventilation.

So the friendly and clean aliens did,

Who brought the eye of Osiris,

All-seeing eye, much experienced sun,

A Window that is walking through dead people!

Deep holes are dug by esoteric wind,

sinkholes in the sand desert

strive to the Nile source with

the cosmic whirlpools …

All this in an unmarried desert rays

At the sunset brown as date palm

while the wind beats the overdone brick with the sand

and Vesna wants to kiss me. And I

gasped at the yellow sand, at the poor homes,

at the golden donkey towards whom the children are running

to ask him about its health …

I want to kiss the Sphinx!

Vesna is ridinh a camel, the camel is riding through the desert, desert is in the

universe. And what next?!

And I Set out with gigantic steps across the sky.

But we are here, just here, in the sunset …

As if the ocean winds in front of us, the Nile washes the laundry of space …

And what next?

American from our bus is photographing

A sunset behind a military base …

Vesna loves an American.

True book creates out of nothing.

Treason creates nothing out of all.

Return to Love -boys and girls

whinnie happily, who are running around the desert.

But I swim in the flooded catacomb,

The authentic worlds have sunk into the ground, everyone except me,

and I swim in circles before drowning and I wait to get in,

through the winding Nile, in the sand sinkhole, the vortex of the source, but

I do not have a girl, who si coming out of the hot water of the Nile

into the night for me,

pharaoh of tenderness, Admiral of infinity waves,

coming from the center of the earth …

I only have a ray of the setting sun …

I really could have gotten married in Egypt

without anyone or anything

With a ray of the setting sun

But the bus had gone

into the past of

my future.

Admiral Mahic