Read Poem: Meridians, by Anna Idelevich

Raspberry paradise,
all the bushes are strewn with ripe juicy berries,
in the morning, I run a sprint before work,
in the evening, I crawl like a black shadow animal
in a crowd of gloomy and tired workers on a boat,
where people with Harvard rings smoke and smoke
the clouds over Hingham Bay lay down on my chest.
Mosquitoes roar like lions in the dead of night in the forests,
and above the water it’s quiet, there’s not too much forest here,
and I don’t really understand, but I feel that the area is wonderful.
I like to let my guard down, relax,
don’t worry about anything and don’t worry about anything
at least for one minute, because then everything… and a new morning comes,
and you no longer know what to expect from the next day,
lie with me and hug me too.
I’ve read books by Korean women, but most of all I like books by American women,
for some reason close to me, maybe mentality, or maybe
names of the locality of our median.
Meridian.
Me in a tiny white top, with a very cute but makeup-damaged face,
and you are also the same age, the same age, my light, sleep and wake up with my pollen.

Author: poetryfest

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