Simon Perchik


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Simon Perchik



• Sniffing its footprints, this pebble
• My tongue hard, trampled red
• All night tightening, rolled smooth
• And now these chimes
• As if the rain this minute stopped
• What did they see that my cheeks
• As if there were set prices, these shadows
• I tighten a gift for you
• This tree who works as hard
• With each step and practice
• A book or a coat on a seat
• At night you can tell the stones
• You bark as if a knock
• Inside the Earth an Earth
• You clank this pot, held
• You still land belly-down