Slight betrayal and I am left underneath the shallow
slightest of joys elude me for I feel myself robotic
orbit in it’s finest stance, comfort erased
slightly irrelevant in the midst of the world order.
Slightly built, slightly perturbed who am I kidding,
slightly agitated and very confused at the driving
of maniacs on streets of snow melted into frost
at five o’clock in the morning
the drive is the beginning of mortality
also, it begins the day slightly chaotic
but still left untouched how lucky am I.
The slight disappear in the madness of the busy
in intricacies of humanity they are a box filled
with Styrofoam, with little gifts inside.
Slightly, we inch our way forward
day by day we step into the unknown
unbeknownst to us what each spectacle contains
how each spectacle will reign our bodies
how each heart accepts or rejects what is the
course of action, predetermined or not.
We are slight creatures, in the comparison with the cosmos
yet we are strong slight beings with insides
deeper than planets, housing beings that
come out they play a role in our lives
and each day we meet the new actor,
slightly preserving our preservation until we jar
canned peaches, waiting for the computer’s to crash,
saving our babies,
I will wait and watch with a slight grin on my face,
because I knew the time was coming.
Anna Rozwadowska 2019