Russian roulette

you’re lost in the woods of fear
the paths inside splinter your skies
like a thunder
you look at your hands
they stink of victories
that will never be forgotten
can you hear the greyhounds
sniffing your footsteps?
can you smell the gun powder
in your soul?
take this bullet
and place it in the barrel
of your silence
now put your index
on the trigger

let the hunt begin

Pour Homme

de la uşă ţi-arunci paloşul,
scutul, biletul de tramvai
apoi haina cu umerii lăsaţi
ca doua bariere de tren întîrziat

azi ai pierdut o bătălie
cu tine însuţi
inamicul tău favorit
şi de ciudă
vei bea cu el
din cel mai mare pocal
găsit în dulap

veţi face contrabandă cu amintiri ilegale
(aparţinînd unor foşti colegi de birou)
şi veţi cînta împreună
imnuri şi cîntece de luptă
vă veţi privi victoriile trecute
cu mîndrie
ca pe nişte capete de cerbi împăiaţi
apoi vei adormi

în jilţul tău
în castelul tău
pe planeta ta
observat atent de organisme vii
cu gene lungi

Sunday logic

As words flutter in my head
into a Brownian motion
the meaning of that thought
waves good-bye to the second

(so
does
the
poem).

I am once more
forced to intoxicate myself
with the most deluding and reassuring fact
that it did not matter

(which
is
probably
nothing).

worth living for

one day I'll die
(probably young enough to remember)

and all those people
I never heard from
in years
will rush over
to say what a great person
I really was

that I used to be such
a laugh
that I liked to drink G&T
at the end of the day
Grolsch at weekends
and Baileys at Xmas

that I always found my way home
after long nights
in Tiger Tiger

that I was such a loving Mum
taking my kids to school
and McDonald’s
and never sending them out
to get cigarettes
after 10.30 PM

that I only cheated on my
significant others
a few times
and even then
I didn't really mean it

that I had beautiful eyes
which never cried but
always carried a glimmer
of hope

After the Lunch by Wendy Cope

crush

he knew how to sustain my gaze

(like a dissertation)

and every time he talked to me
my hands would caress each other
in hiding

(one of them pretending it was his)

I was quivering around each map,
year or name of a leader

you,

(pardon me),

you Sir
I loved more than chocolate

Bukowski's Blue bird

Nag

In this household there’s far too much noise!

...your mobile, your pager, your palmtop, your laptop, your desktop, your land-line, your radio, your plasma screen, your mp3, your screw driver, your GPS, your audio-books, your lawn-mower, your toothbrush, your stereo, your play-station, your VCR, your hairdryer, your podcasts, your DVD player, your digital clock, your analogue clock, your juicer, my vibrator, your drill...

Lithium (over the counter)

weather and society
bipolar cousins
hang out and
hand over leaflets to the masses
here you are, they say
it’s all in control
don’t panic

and we don’t

we drink Grolsch
buy lottery tickets
and breed

the government loves us

Ditto

lumea ne dădea fifty fifty

noi mototoleam adevăr după adevăr
şi aruncam cu ele în răsărituri de soare
ne păsa fix în coşul pieptului
de relaţia asta

rîdeam de lumina spartă în mii de raze
de oamenii cu riduri ce dădeau îngăduitor din cap
şi căutam mînă în mînă
un nou 100%
evitînd intrarea în sevraj


uneori mă făceam că trăiesc
ca o dîră de benzină prelinsă pe
asfaltul pe care călcai
tu te deghizai în chibritul
aruncat neatent peste umăr


alteori ne aprindeam
doar de la un gînd cu tivul rupt
de seara precedentă
ori de la o cută cu miros de trup în cearşaf


gravitaţia a fost singura lege care ne-a despărţit


şi-ntr-o luni dimineaţă
am găsit ca bilet de adio
tăcerea
un bărbat gol în casa scării
pe lîngă care treci repede
fără să-l poţi privi în ochi