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Untitled 2

for A.B.

it’s so hard to believe

that once we were even younger

than now

that our skin was so thin

that veins blued through it

like lines in school notebooks

that the world was a homeless dog

that played with us after class

and we were thinking of taking it home

but somebody else took it first

gave it a name

and trained it stranger

against us

and this is why we wake up late at night

and light up the candles of our tv sets

and in their warm flame we recognize

faces and cities

and courageous in the morning

we dethrone omelets from frying pans…

but our dog grew up on another’s leash

our mothers suddenly stopped sleeping with men

and looking at them today

it’s so easy to believe in the immaculate conception

and now imagine:

somewhere there are towns

with white stone houses

scattered along the ocean shore

like the eggs of gigantic water birds

and every house carries a legend of a captain

and every legend starts with

“young and handsome…”

from Factory of TearsFind it in the library

Copyright © 2008 Valzhyna Mort (Trans. Elizabeth Oehlkers Wright and Franz Wright)
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Poems Valzhyna Mort

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