Of late
I’m late
the century just passed by carrying the breathable
ticketless, on the red painted curb
crumbled
unrescued by the hopefighters
or me
unrescued by the mummified hitchhiker
or by the falling thumb pointing directionless
towards
Continue reading
Also by Jaia Papitz
Other voices · In conversation
- Imagine1 MIN
- The Final-Final1 MIN
- Secrets1 MIN