Glass Poetry Press

Volume Five Issue One

Peycho Kanev

And tomorrow

Today, I will look in the mirror to see only one unshaven beast. Today, they'll offer me razorblades and foam to prepare myself. Today, they'll drag me out of the cell, and we’ll go out for my last stroll. Today, I will read the newspaper with my name in it, underlined with thick line, and the time of my birth and death at the end. Today, I'll dream of childhood, dandelions and something lost forever - teeth, nails and stolen virginity. Today, I'll eat my last supper in secrecy, happy for who I am and what I was. Today, my time will be heavy as the Sphinx, and I will wait for the night. And tomorrow, I will leave these golden bars behind, I will walk between the guards of honor and the people with dark faces, and they'll scream: "Fry him like a dog," but wouldn't they see that I am god?