big flowers
in concrete pots. a child running.
a number, a halt, vivisection
there is no better day
for the buzz of engines.
also: smoke, lead
sometimes, flour, a ball of fire. the sun burning
the white canvas of the curtains. reflections
shining on the pavement.
everyone is ready to take a nap, reduce the movement.
so it becomes clear, with the sound of a cold voice
who manages the day. on the ground floor
a secretary diligently types. the phone rings. she answers.
her blonde hair in a tail shakes. same as today
or was it yesterday. the taste of familiarity in the summer dust
of the street. a digital camera. when i fell in love with emblematology,
an acquaintance said. can he list the thousands of dispersed names
in the white pages, sort voters by counties, swim breaststroke,
ring the bell at the front door so that the words say enumeration,
tell you what to do with yourself,
every clock mechanism is empty and the fruits ooze emptiness, and the pots.
watch out, you say to yourself, to continue that way. whitening of the dust,
big flowers, and all these concrete pots.
across the street a child is running, smoke, lead,
canvas of the curtain, the sun as it forms the reflections.

 

 

 

maria, maria, you have the most beautiful name in the world
you are of spanish blood, hot, you are big on the streets
big in corners, as big and round as barbara
still, you’re not barbara but maria on street
corners, following me, speaking spanish
you are good, a well-known preparation for a holiday
for a gift, for confidence received
for the building of trains, of countries, which will be on the map.
when it comes to me that you hate me, i hate myself too, but never you
you i always respect and understand.
in my zagreb style i celebrate your
temper, your little black hair let loose and your choice,
flower dresses, your lifestyle, maria, sufficiency
of the streets you walk, the fullness of town parks
with steps, hips, fruits, hair
locks, sandals in colors of the sun, bracelets, colors
lit up, your heat and warmth,
my zagreb autumn and i are starting from this level
a new cycle of life, from an idea to realization
a new movie, death and life, but, first and foremost, life,
time is a standard language and you are parts of that language as long as,
a foreword and a measure.
maria, maria, you have the most beautiful name in the world
people go on a general strike when they see you,
anns and richards, and rudolphs
a speech is organized, education is covered by your name,
the policemen stop and let the passers-by,
nine euros, meaning ten, homes are filled,
the secretaries of urban development are making plans,
maria, maria, cloudiness, in layers,
there is a possibility that you’ll eat it, that you’ll smile,
throw back your hair, grow freckles, but it doesn't matter, forever,
my empress,
horsewoman, an adventure, your weapon, we are getting in,
many thoughts, in your sandals i find grapes,
on your arms transvestite’s hairs, but i still dream of you, maria,
you have no idea
what it’s like to live here.