by Peycho Kanev

The Hospital

Snow-white and farinaceous and
little green.

Tall windows
and birds on the branches outside
like in an aquarium.
Squeak of rubbers soles
and wheels on the linoleum.

Then a scream echoes that quickly fades away.
It goes out and starts to wander from
room to room —

the pain is looking for a new recipient.

Alternative Fate

“Your left leg is a little bit longer
than the other”, the doctor told the boy.
“But do not worry, your big penis
will compensate for that”.
His mother giggled. She was one of
those “simpleminded” folk.
The boy felt happy.
And now he is
a man. He went out in the evenings
to watch at the star-filled sky.
To listen to the shrieks of the owls,
the stillness of the river; the passage
of time, to look at the colors.
Years passed.
Now he is walking
across the fields of France, carrying
the canvas, the brushes and the palette
on which there is a lot of yellow, so
much yellow.

A Piece of Time

And the cup of coffee in my hand
and the sun warming up from above
and the concrete street with the people
and the iron tables crowding around me
and the tourists talking to each other
and the kids still half asleep and smiling
and the bird on the branch next to me
and the almost invisible thread in its beak
and the white clouds moving slowly
and your words when you said you would never come back
and I look at my watch that has stopped forever.

About the Author:

Peycho Kanev is the author of 4 poetry collections and three chapbooks, published in the USA and Europe. His poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as: Rattle, Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others. His new chapbook titled Under Half-Empty Heaven was published in 2018 by Grey Book Press.