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Click hereWhen I was a little boy
On the New Year’s eve
My father brought home
A glossy nude calendar.
I was looking the pages
When nobody was around.
At the tenement we called home
Roaches were rummaging
For bread crumbs in the dark
When lights turned on
They were rushing to hide in crevices on the wall.
I used to bust them with sleepers
Moving away corpses with broom.
Before I went to sleep
I took a last look to the calendar.
Hasan Ali Tokuqin
Istanbul/Turkey