Habitatum by Maria Stadnicka

I bring white little stones from the market
and place them, like pills, in long straight lines on my desk.

Although full of stuff, my body lives at the top floor –
with a view towards a perfect car park.

I watch the beheadings through a narrow hole in the sky
I point a fully loaded gun against the world.

The earth rests
suspended between wild heavens and landscaped gardens.

And yet the sun is still rising above the silent bell ropes,
hanging loose among people who stand up to
look at the death pit as if
nothing has happened.

Maria Stadnicka

Maria Stadnicka is a writer, freelance journalist and lecturer. Winner of 12 Romanian National Poetry prizes, she worked as a radio and TV broadcaster. She has lived in Gloucestershire, England since 2003. Published poetry collections: O-Zone Friendly, A Short Story about War, Imperfect. http://www.mariastadnicka.com



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