The Dust

THE DUST

Dusty, dusty, dusty the days roll by

My pupils retain the dusty tribe’s evil eye

Stealthily we’ll be replaced with ash figurines

I don’t have the time to wipe the dust from my eyes

Tenderly dust corrodes my retina

Dust penetrates what used to be Paradise

Color movies get covered with ashen dust

Creaking of old film- my joy, good-by!

Dusty wig worn over silver hair

Dusty gloves worn on the slender hands

The Earth overflows with burning asphalt

Dusty faces- my joy, good-by

Dusty, dusty, dusty the days roll by

Dusty rats do not hurry to leave the ship

Like a tiny dustball the Earth lonely flies

Dusty, dusty, dusty the days roll by