Moon baby.

Read and recorded For You 19.1.21 ,in exhibit L-610 in the company KovoSteel, Staré Město. From the upcoming collection of poems Map of the Continent of Your Heart, For You my girl.
Moon baby.

Lubomír Tomik.

You step on the right foot, you get up
and goVERnments are falling,

You look in the mirror and the prime ministers are shaking their heads
gunpowder from ancient mistress powder puffs,

A touch of BEAUTY brightens the planet,
months collide and dust
from their rains it will coVER you from head to heel,

to the heel,
BEAUTY
You took the upper hand, i feel.

Queue in the supermarket. Fronta v supermarketu.

Fronta v supermarketu stock fotografie, royalty free Fronta v supermarketu  obrázky | Depositphotos ®
Queue in the supermarket. Read and recorded for You in 2021 , For You. I write this in Year 2O16. Strange.
Queue in the supermarket.

Lubomír Tomik

 the beauty stood there thinking about the people in line in front of her
 there stood a guy thinking about the people in line in front of him
 I was standing there

 I remembered a beauty and a guy telling me what they were doing
 in line at the supermarket

 I remembered it and thought about the people in line in front of me

 On the twentieth day of March, thirteen hundred and forty-five,
 it looked like a sale of plague bacteria.


 Good buy, man.
From ,, Dinner at Minski´s “ /2016/

Beauty.Krása.

Beauty.

 Lubomír Tomik

 And when he wrote to Her at midnight, 
he was a Turkish messenger to a castle, a castle, a castle,
 arrow and steel tip, 

the message roll unfolded like a black rose bud,

 the princess threw herself into the river 
and changed everything with her gaze,
 during which steam boilers exploded the hearts of skyscrapers lounging on a summer lavender meadow,

 i wasn't good enough for You 

... was not.

Beauty. Krása.
Recorded 6.2.21, on Saturday night, for You, in the cabin at the stern of the sailboat Hope, along the lighthouse, where the windows in the photo is lit. For You … I know I’m not good enough, I know.
Krása.

 Lubomír Tomik

 A když jí o půlnoci psal,
 byl to turecký posel do hradu, hradu , hradu,
 šíp a ocelový hrot.

 Rolička zprávy se rozvinula jako poupě černé růže.

 Princezna se vrhla do řeky
 a změnila všechno svým pohledem,
 při kterém explodovaly parní kotle srdce mrakodrapů lenošících na letní levandulové louce.

 Nebyl jsem pro Tebe dost dobrý…

 nebyl.