2026 NaPM 9 April

[wasellajam]

Katka

I once loved a girl from Slovakia
as rugged as the tatras 
she swirled with Slavic snow.

She called me miláčik 
"let's fly to Praha and twirl
 beneath gothic spires"

So past the saints
Baroque on the bridge
we bumbled around 
cobbled Bohemian streets
until we found ourselves
next to the astronomical clock.

"They blinded the maker" you told me
as skeleton death struck the hour,
"cities make me tired, I'm going home."

In Slovak mountains
we walked onto frozen lakes
and you taught me the words
for icicle and rainbow.

One day we found
a blind dog
in a snow storm 
walking in circles.
We took him back
to help him get warm
but he died and you said,

"Life makes me tired, I'm going home."

Love this one.