Trei poeme în limba engleză

What everybody but I can see

Talking about your situation means

inviting people to a party. I like to drink alone.

Our dog hides under the kitchen table

when he starts his explanations.

Something else is hiding under the bed.

Something that crawls and grabs in a blink

everything I care for and many little things:

our dog’s red ball, a memory

stick. He insists on discussing our situation.

I do a refill.

Mind ferment

I tried to open the kitchen window -

it’s hard to give in after a long

silence. Then something fell and

two sparrows raised in a shriek.

Trembling all the way

to the living room. I’ve done something

stupid, I say. What, he says, standing up and

dropping a cable.

I tried to open the window.

So?

There was a bird nest.

And?

Now they have no place to go.

Just finish unpacking.

Our dog is following me everywhere.

You can see the desperation in the little black eyes,

you can hear it echoing in the hurried paws.

Don’t. Leave. Me. Here.

I bend and give her some comfort.

There is a feather on my hand.

Residues

The trees have bloomed again. It’s cold.

He’s smoking in front of the window.

I’m smoking in front of the computer.

There’s a boy gathering wood, he says,

from the garbage, maybe I should

take out the broken chair.

Yes, maybe you should.

He made coffee this morning.

Last night we had a little fight.  After that,

we got into bed, back to back,

our dog in between.

I had a nightmare and woke up whining.

But now it’s daylight and we

are walking on loose floor.

Do you think we should keep it? he says.

What for?