UNKNOWN PINES IN BERLIN

	By Alina J. Gregorian


	At the gas station store I saw a guy wearing shoes four sizes too big. I said, "Guy, why didn't you buy
	those shoes in your size?" He ran out the store, down the road, into the river, "Guy no more," I said, "Guy
	no more."

	Bought a book called Neoplatonism: Pine Cones Are Our Friends. Read the first chapter then fed the fish
	with its pages. Wondered if the pines out back needed coats. That night I woke myself up saying: "I can
	climb pines." The fish replied, "Especially unknown pines in Berlin."

	There was a lime-green visor on my alarm clock. Balloons were stuck to my ceiling. The parrot kept
	chanting, "Neoplatonism, neaplatonism." Thought to myself, "Is this some kind of modern tornado?" When
	the light bulbs shattered I ran to my backyard and yelled, "Don't let the pine cones suffocate you!" But there
	were no pines and my neighbors stared.

	The velcro on this visor is amazing. Cases of pine cones now line my cellar walls. Every morning I say, "I
	can climb pines especially those unknown pines in Berlin."


--
Alina J. Gregorian is a graduate student at The New School. Her poems
can be seen in Pax Americana. She lives in Brooklyn NY.