Psalm about Laughter by Tadeusz Nowak

the smell of iodine in the distance
in the nearness the scent of cut grass
laughter is ours and sadness horses
nibble in the forest and digest

nibble little planets
of shit dropped on moss
women from a nearly village
carry laugher in the buckets

carry and this laughter once again
spills out of the buckets into the forest
seeing this how can we not believe
that laughter caused time to burst?

that sadness smells of laughter
in the milk a grassy nearness
in a peasant’s farthest distance
cast iron city breath

fate coming out the ass
day after day in mouse’s burrow
and in the sound of the bells
our voices suffer from mortality

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