Plumbers
This is how you gain knowledge of the body.
Today the plumber sings to you
The syllables of a lullaby.
Today in exchange for your yesterday’s silence a thank-you note will come
Inside the envelope covered with stars.
The envelope of currency
Becomes the current sign of thank you. This poetry becomes liquid
Siphoned out of gas tanks
That drips slowly inside the gas pipes.
He will decide for himself how much our “to love” is worth
When you clench your teeth. Where everything used to cost a ruble,
It will become warm and wet and you will want to check your soul
At the luggage locker, like a sobbing child.
How can you make your bones protrude beyond your bony shell when you are already outside of it?
He, who ran his finger along the inside of the pipe, won’t tell you where you are.
Splitting
Our splitting is the splitting of connective tissue.
No connections any more not even long-distance
We threw away every conjunction from this sentence.
Game over – the archer finally hit the X-ring
And pushed his cart of bottles, thoughts and rubbish along.
From exhausted arms there flows the syrup of something
That will not combine any more
Into any protein.
No services and no inducements –
Let yourself slip through.
The wire breaks, the connection breaks –
The séance ends with an apple that this Adam
Never bit on, only held to his lips point-blank.
Translated by Oksana Lutsyshyna and Daniel Belgrad
Short link: http://thatis.me/~ueBN2$1