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At Cafe Bacho


This evening we sat in Cafe Bacho on King George street after 
House of the Flying Daggers 
The most poetic film I ever saw 
I said 
And I sank into a romantic triangle 
which is not possible with this bizarre 
waitress with a chopped hair-cut 

I said to her 
that she is special 
She said 
So are you 

Then I reminded my ex-husband that a sentence can lie within another sentence 
He used to hold my hand with courage for courage's sake 
Tears fell down my cheeks and sank in the jasmine tea, 
which the waitress 
Brought 

Maybe it’s she who really made me cry 

She seemed like a Christian Georgian woman in a homely pub in Tbilisi 
You said: 
The cushions are over here 

You mentioned that Erez called and didn't mention me 
You said: 
He got burnt 
Not a word about 
You 

I said that I also thought about him 

I said that Oren called 

And you explained how she died a mysterious death she the poetess 
Who went after anyone who wanted her 
In Eilat 
An investigation won’t bring the words back 

I spoke with a free spirit 
But the butterfly didn't fly




translated from Hebrew:
Michael Simkin

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