From: The Nothing Athlete (1997)
It's Going to Rain
What a Saturday this is.
Lions eating up September,
And October gulping us all down.
I copy out old poems
(like smashing rocks).
I bleach out the hours.
Take out the winter clothes.
I talk for no reason in particular
to the landscape and the music.
I'm off again to somewhere far away
— I'll be right here nearby.
Alone, I'm completely alone in the city:
I say what I please
walk about aimlessly
(adverbs have a red stride)
— listen to my footsteps.
I'm caught in the trap now
for good.
Translated by Jane Assimakopoulos
Page(s) 31
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