Peter Zilahy Poems

the lights of the awakening city
he watches the arm swinging the blow
finds him as if he was yanking open curtains
no speech no cry he mutely falls
...

to die in socks
because the floor is cold
to snuggle into lukewarm
ankle socks
...

jesus doing the butterfly stroke on the cross
- - - -
baby trophies
on the corridor of the maternity ward
...

she comes
I hear her wings beating
she pulls down the covers
with sure movements
...

My bumpy road to sexual maturity was paved with the death of communist dictators.
My first sexual experience coincided with the death of Mao Zedong. I was bitten by
a girl called Diana in nursery school. My voice broke when Tito died, and I first came
when Brezhnev went. For three days there was nothing but classical music on the radio,
...