quinta-feira, maio 05, 2016

escritos a partir de escritos I

Ligh and shade
Claro-escuro




From the sixth floor, after Gerry Brennan

a poet who knew me wrote about it
my father, yes he
 - Father, Father why have you forsaken…-
cried about it
my mother, who? what?
my younger sister dreams about it
my other sister reads about it
my fair cousin asks about it
my friends forgot about it

It, as small as – it
smaller than small
ein augenblick – german
beloved second language-family
a blink of an eye – an it

you ask me to explain the last night
you can’t, how can I
my sister remembers
packed to leave the next morning
- sorry cousin –
bathed, ready for bed
white robe? light
looking at her, not many words
she saw the sorrow
but, but, less than previous days
she thought
- at least she has plans, she’ll travel
she thought
what did I think?

previous days
she saw, the bed, the pillow, the hair, the oven, the door
she tried
- to - protect me -
as I protected them
- all we did
all they left us with
- mother, father, grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, cousins…
all they left us with
the root, the root

the youngest cried tears
now cries in rage, who would say
but I could not be angry
the other sister can’t, either
and 5 minutes ago, we both saw,
just then
thirteen thousand days or so after
how an it, nothing more than an it,
is.

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