The Poet

The poet
( homage to Attila Jozsef )


I’m a poet,
Engineer at a big construction,
I put all things into function,
Lion tamer with a big bone,
King on the toilette, alone,
Peasant, I plough with a word-tractor,
Historian, explaining wars, evil actions,
Why the Sieg Heil, why all that loss,
Why Jesus smiled on the cross,
Teacher, so that I can stroke you
When you’re bothered by Joe or a flu,
Lawyer so that I can defend you,
When they beat you in Zair or Malibu,
Pornstar when you are bored, my son,
Barmaid , so that you can have some fun,
Pilot that takes you high, and above all,
Electrician so that you can call
Your mother, lover, and if you miss Jane
I keep cleaning railways and trains,
I’m a doctor to save your life,
Cleaner to clean you with my eyes,
Actor so that you can love me much,
I can recite, cry, as you want,
A shrink so that you can cry to me,
Bear pain, death tenderly,
I pick orange so that you can breathe
Orange future, present and if
Orphans think that life is bitter,
I’m a smiling babysitter,
I’m a priest, talk to Him, please,
The way to an electric chair I ease,
In the church you can stroke the bench,
To feel, God, thanks that we are friends,
You can say you love me deep,
And your soul’s public property,
To have someone whom you can tell
Whom you killed one night, somewhere,
And if you are in a bed, dying,
I’ll be with you, unnoticeably crying.