By Mendes Biondo
I’m not sure that stuff could be considered a poem
you said
on the display a few words
about a thing happened while
you were on a tram
poetry is everywhere
I told you
just let things go
just don’t change life into a good story
let flow what happened
and poetry will come
as a consequence
maybe you’re right
you said
and together we chopped those words
you wrote some days ago
it was the story of a man and a woman
he with his problems
she with her problems
and the poem was in the middle
like a ghost
watching their pain flowing from their eyes
you were there with that ghost
with that pain
and you lost a stop
just to collect that moment
a good moment
like a polaroid picture
only words and no images on the page
now I’m tired
you said
I need to sleep
I waited all the day for the night
just to go to bed and let another day begin
I smiled while you said that
good night my sweet poet
I said
good night my love
you said
