Read Poetry: The Forty Second parallel, by Robert Meskhi

I’ll go into exile
And I’ll say,
That my homeland
Looks like a rubber fish –
looks like a toy –
from where air has been pumped out With pistons,
Then fins cut around
With a blunt knife,
Tearing up gills,
And again they
Threw it back into the beach
It’s mouth toward the north wind.


A circle, sir!
the Forty Second parallel too, is
A noose, sir!
You put your heart into it and …
It strangles you.




Robert Meskhi

Tbilisi, Georgia

About poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.
This entry was posted in 2018 Poetry, new poetry, poet, poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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