SOME YOUNG EAGLES
From the elitist shop in the vile department store
To the garage below the blacktop between two cartels
I’ve pissed on n’ kissed upon every inch here that
My trampled soles did ever tread on.
Swathed by the mighty loudspeakers of mosques
Propped near the rhythm of helicopter blades
Awake have I sleepwalked through the rigid classrooms,
Hearing both chalk and greenswards arear.
Across the labyrinth, with walls drawn-out before me,
Now I see new eagles that – akin to me then – naively
Are rushing unafraid toward every newly sprout peak
By the snow blinded, fooled that all is theirs.
Each of us has walked the same summers.
Our boxes filled with childhood and daydreams.
Been toppled by the same waves of shallow waters
And held sticks over our heads in triumph.
To their health I drink this glass of cognac!
Both they and I will keep on as black swans that
Heroically dive through a contaminated lake.
For all of them I drink this cup of milk! – I entreat thee
tonight to be thy senior step brother.