On Some Days

/, Blesok no. 95/On Some Days

On Some Days

The day filtering
Buzzing flight
On some days
Apple and blackbird
Every day
Our own breath
We meet inside

Translated from German by Richard Martin

THE DAY FILTERING through cracks in the blind
and every movement generates wavy lines, itineraries:

where the shadows fall, the watery membrane. You

crouch in a picture, archaic, with eucalyptus oil
on the edge of the bath, think yourself into the rainy
season: they´ll be cutting the bark

now, on it the journey revolves concentrically
around places, and always directing someone to some beginning,
to some suspicion, some order:

borderland tension

has divided you into bird´s eye views
and body painting
on soaking finger-tips.

Then the water drains away. Outside the window,
motionless, the parallelograms. You stay
in the room, you´re an archive

that´s getting cold.

AuthorJürgen Nendza
2018-08-21T17:22:39+00:00 May 15th, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 95|0 Comments