Tripping Over Walls
written by: Bojana Stojcic
@BoyaETC
for Kim
It made no sense at all
I tripped on a stone a while ago
and fell face first on the street
I’m still wondering if no one saw me or
they did (someone must have) but were
busy trying not to trip on me
I was tripping over perfect strangers
I was tripping over perfect friends
falling into the wall that would regularly
catch fire like in a bad Hollywood
blockbuster about a town filled with sleeping
beauties who wake to the smell of freshly
burned coffee and a home of fog
our plaster structures are flammable and
can turn to ashes faster than a celluloid film
I know that now, though
some things still make little sense
Bojana Stojcic writes in Germany, where she can be found playing with choo choo trains, watching Peter Pan and Fireman Sam, bitching about politics and losing herself in the rituals of chopping, stirring and tasting. Her poetry and prose have recently appeared in The Daily Drunk, Pandemic, Entropy and 11 Mag Berlin, and are forthcoming in GLITCHWORDS and Loud Coffee Press.
Latest posts by Bojana Stojcic (see all)
- Soul Kitchen - January 24, 2021
- I DIED IN VAIN - August 5, 2019
- Tripping Over Walls - June 21, 2019
