Brian Docherty

World View

Boredom rusts my mouth, shrivels my tongue.
The food never varies; I mark off my days
by the menu I have never been offered.
The supplements announce who is on duty.

I can smell my own body, the drains,
boiled vegetables, leather and dogs.
The man who hung himself 20 meals ago is
still with us, a wreath of quicklime.

My skin, my clothes, this floor, these walls, are
all I have touched for too long.
A book, a woman’s skin, a glass of wine, are
things I have given up longing for.

All night I hear men moaning, pipes banging,
lorries and trains in the distance.
If I had a watch, I could set it by them. In
the early hours they stop for a while.

The high window is a wonky camera
framing birds, clouds, kites, planes.
I never see other people except through
the smoky mirror of memory.

Simona Florentina Pavaloiu

Brian Docherty

Vedere spre lume

De plictiseala mi se cocleste gura si limba-mi amorteste
Mancarea este aceeasi, asa ca bifez zilele in care
In meniu apare ceva ce n-a mai fost vreodata .
Suplimentele ne dau de veste cine este de jurna.

Simt mirosul propriului tup, a scursorilor
Resturilor de mancare, vesmintelor din piele si a cainilor
Barbatul ce s-a spanzurat in urma cu 20 de mese
Inca dainuie printre noi ca un rotocol de var nestins

E multa vreme de cand nu am atins altceva
Decat propria-mi piele si imbracaminte, podeaua si aceste ziduri.
Am renuntat sa mai tanjesc
Dupa o carte, trupul unei femei si un pahar de vin.

Intreaga noapte aud barbati gemand, ciocaniturile in tevi
Camioane si trenuri in departare
Daca as avea un ceas, l-as potrivi dupa acestea.
Tot ce aud inceteaza un timp in orele diminetii.

Ferestruica este ca o camera de luat vederi piezisa
Surprinzand cadre de pasari, nori , zmee, avioane,
dar oameni nu mai vad, decat
in oglinda incetosata a amintirilor.