Full Month in Istanbul

/, Blesok no. 94/Full Month in Istanbul

Full Month in Istanbul

Getting Dark in the East
A Flood
A Woman Who Craved Ice
Seesaw
Language
Populism
Advertisement for Death
Fragments about Photography

bureaucracy is the mother.
do you know who the father is?
caterpillars count statistics:
there’s shortage of numbers
you used to mask war mysteries
and the drudgery of mental institutions:
the healthy are sick, the sick, healthy:
turn her around, twist her
for lindjo dance and for mogadishu:
the black princess comes down
and opens her dress.
guests and visitors are on their way out.
the immense crowd starts to chant:
how much of this? how much beyond sight?
you hennaed your little belly hair
and laughed at vulgarities,
laughed hysterically
at the pack of dogs.
they howled, kept jumping over corpses:
one is a sheep-dog, the other a werewolf.
the pack is hungry,
the pack is thirsty,
attacks the blood flow,
spreads out the front-line
along the railroad track, then toward the marble.
do you know who could bring that to a halt?
do you know who the father is, the narrator, the falsifier?
the mother is the father.
mother.
father.

Translated by Mario Susko

2018-08-21T17:22:39+00:00 March 2nd, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 94|0 Comments