Apart from the worn stone-step
where drunks still topple
all has changed.
Now a neon glow backlights a plasticized fascia.
In the in the parking lot two blonds face-off.
one has extra-large ear bangles,
and she rattles like a Zulu warrior,
fingers stabbing through cuss-words.
Youths shout
over the clomping-thump
of their car radios.
I used to come here often
I explain to my incredulous wife.
“Good times”, I say unconvincingly.
She won't go in, but I have to pee.
Inside there’s a blaze of corporate ersatz.
In the cramped `gents’,
a die-hard seediness persist.
There’s an old-time essence
of Borax and Vanish..
A condom dispenser (a peeling relic),
links me to a few beery memories.
Close the door, switch off the light
We’re going to be good friends tonight
Come lay with me and let’s embrace
Ignore the seediness of this place
We’ll make mechanical love like we always do
And I’ll whisper sweet endearments to you
When I’m done, my passion spent
You’ll understand not a word was meant.
I’ll get dressed and pay your fee
I’ll mean nothing to you nor you to me
To one another we’re bodies without a name
Playing along to the rules of the Game.
Separately, we’ll leave the cheap motel
And you’ll return to your private hell
While I go home to my kids and wife
Without another thought of you and your life.
sonata for the flute and piano
adding
some slices
of a sunrise tasted with the friends
and a calm sleep on the sand
for the brioche with bilberries
I cut the almonds
I break the nuts
in this August evening
the sky releases the colours- like the agate
on the seashore
at the "Seamagic"
torrents of musical phantasies
against the seediness
the Benedich eggs
excited
a handshake
a dreamy smile
broken peers in white wine
who wouldn't give the marchal stick for a marengo chicken?
when the woodcock’s eyes
start fading away
it is a sign that it can taste quiet
this dusk of the day or life
as ISSA can say
tiny summer rain
a romance in the ice bucket
for later on
between graces and muses
only Seneca’s hen
together with the poetess Kozne Uzawa
it a milk coffee
the autumn is near-
some drops in a caress
may cure the heart
(translated by Margareta Mioc )
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