poems/the march hare

I owned
a house
with ground floor and attic
and an old house with cracked walls
in whose doorframe I once wrote
I am happy
In the meantime
I whitewashed and moved
into the new house
with ground floor and attic
The old house melted
the new one has split
The attic levitates on its own
and it’s just the place where I sleep
Now my new house is
my brown handbag

I searched the recycle bin
I found: a cork
a pencil sharpener a photo a small suitcase a harp a smiling monster
I took the sharpener and sharpened the smiling monster
then tied it to a string I had in my pocket
and put it in the small suitcase
Then I played the harp for a while
It sounded beautiful
The photo was very old
I couldn’t recognize the faces of the characters
They were sad.
Next to them, in a corner, there was a cat
I took it and put it inside the cork
It meowed
Then I took the mouse
and, to the question 
are you sure you want to empty the recycle bin? 
I answered: yes

I have discovered 21 ways to survive
The first is to eat spinach pancakes
The second is to fold the tablecloth very carefully
Leaving no creases
The third is to phone your friends
The fourth is to fall asleep
The fifth is to chew orbit sugar free
The sixth is to make potato soup
The seventh is to float in a swimming pool with clear water
The eighth is to read a good book
The ninth is to dream of what is left
The tenth is to tell everything
The eleventh is to do crossword puzzles and not find the answers
The twelfth is to be very sad
The thirteenth is to be happy
The fourteenth is to wipe off the dust
The fifteenth is to wash your hair
The sixteenth is to plant tulip bulbs
The seventeenth is to draw
The eighteenth is to curl up in bed
The nineteenth is to draw up invoices
The twentieth is to drink still water, not too cold
The twenty-first is to write all of this

(The March Hare, Leda Publishing, Bucharest, 2008)