(after the ancients)
My soul says, Run,
even if it costs you money and love
So says my soul
But I don’t move an inch, I can’t
Because my soul, the snake, is still mad about that little
black-haired bitch!
An evening like any other. Nothing
to tell me you were present in the world.
I received no notification
I could have missed you
I could have stayed home that afternoon,
fallen ill, met your cousin instead of you
Someone else would have taken me that night
Isn’t it better to be made of stone?
Or am I glad it was you?
It’s better to be grass
People mow it, weed it and
it grows wild again, never the same.
People say that a man
who has been bitten by a mad dog
sees the image of the beast
in water everywhere
Have the teeth of rabid love sunk into me,
that in the vastness of the sea, the river’s
whirlpools and the glass from which I drink,
I cannot escape your image
smiling up at me?
Marsha said, He’s too old for you. Imagine!
Knock it off, I said. Next thing you’ll say
I can’t forget my dad. Come on!
But I still think Marsha’s great. Lovely, really
’Cept when she gets like that …
You’re old, my beetle, yes, but you find your way in me.
No one finds their way as easily as you.
Wait, I have to do my nails. Now? Yes, right this moment.
Wait, I said.
(“I’ve got him where I want him,
like a beetle on a pin.”)
Dear bumpkin, I won’t be beautiful when I’m old
Hurry,
caress the eyes of my breasts
Yes, your eyes sparkle star-like everywhere!
And you make me your captive
when you dance with another!
It’s true, it’s true, your secret hair
burns on the lips of your lovers!
But soon (so very soon, my bunny rabbit)
you’ll see them land on the moon on TV.
And what will still be shining then,
there in your room?
The diamond in your ear and nothing else.