The Train Ride
The long body of the snake
stops at every station and
lays its eggs.
People carry in these empty
leather suitcases their pain.
“One pound of flesh, no more, no less…”
But the snake doesn’t care.
Hot concrete. Heavy silence.
We get off the beast and head
for the doors. And then the city,
It is moving, crowded by people:
reborn butchers, saints, driving cabs,
sinners in the bookstores, nuns at
the corners, humble mothers, kids,
wearing smiles big as megachurches
and sunshine, always sunshine.
My pale skin reflects the bright light!
This city is burning with the flames
of millions of lives.
Then I sink into the warm concrete
of the sidewalk, where for the first
time I will be able to read in peace
and quiet under the cool light,
coming from the eyes of the worms.
A Frame of Mind
even this night
The translucent shadows
gather together on the splashy streets
in this ungodly hour
I wake up and look at them
from above the clouds
then I turned to the other side
of a newborn
and the heart
of a dying man
a huge empty
Peycho Kanev is the author of 4 poetry collections and two chapbooks. He has won several European awards for his poetry and he’s nominated for the Pushcart Award and Best of the Net. Translations of his books will be published soon in Italy, Poland and Russia. His poems have appeared in more than 1000 literary magazines, such as: Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Hawaii Review, Cordite Poetry Review, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, The Coachella Review, Two Thirds North, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others.