Medeea Iancu (RO): SOMETHING - GINSBERG - GOD



GINSBERG is dead. Whitman is dead.
Etc. etc.

My voice is a nuclear weapon. Don't
use that word in

Poetry! Cast down your eyes, you're a
Woman! What

Use does poetry still have in times like
These?

I'm the girl who's increased your

Hatred. (The law was an eclipse).
I chew my poetry and spit out a

Nuclear weapon. I use
Men to cleanse the

Filth. I'm sacred.
I'm the woman's

Menses. Ginsberg is dead.
Whitman is

Dead. Etc.

I chew the Lord’s Word. Ashes.


I spit.

...

MY LANGUAGE has become
                                               War.

I am afraid,
You are afraid,
They are afraid,

                        I
Was history, not
                        Biography.

Power is in our museums and we
            Worship it.

                        I
Is political because I was born in
Fear and
Death,

Help me to build pride, not
                                   Shame.

No body is
Prey:
Help me to build pride, not

Shame.

...

SOMETHING is wrong with
                        Me, I tell myself, something is
                        Amiss
                       
                        At night when I walk down the alley, when
                        I run to the tower block's entrance, when

                        That group of lads with caps
                        Pulled low on the forehead passes me by,
                       
                        I breathe a sigh of relief, I breathe
                        A sigh of relief,

He unbuttoned my trousers, something
Was amiss, but all I could see were the tree

Leaves and his lips and his teeth, and
I felt queasy.

                        I must go past
                        This tower block quicker, I must go past
                        This car park quicker, I must

                        Get to the streetlamps, I must
                        Get to the streetlamps, I must
                        Breathe, I must tell myself that

                        All is the same as before, all is
                        The same as before, I must smile

                        And it all
                        Goes away.

When I went to the police they asked:
                        And the nails? We'll need the

                        Nails for a truth
Test.

Something was wrong with me,
How could I know what had

Happened?

Something was wrong with me,
                        Truth machines don't
Lie.

My eye was Circe's mighty
                        Eye, here is the
Proof, I
Said.

But they turned their backs, covered their
                        Ears,
And
                        Decided:

(How's
A woman called in
Your country?)

It's not             true: he
                        Didn't mean to,
                        He loves you,
                        Perhaps he's going through a
Rough patch,
It's not             true,
                        You have no proof.
                        Did you drink by any chance?
Why didn't you fight him off?
                        Why didn't you cry for help?
Why didn't you run away?
                        If you knew him, he wasn't a stranger, he was your
                        Mate.

Nothing happened to you,
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
If anyone asks,

Say this.
No one needs to
Know.

                        I must go past
                        This tower block quicker, I must go past
                        This car park quicker, I must

                        Get to the streetlamps, I must
                        Get to the streetlamps, I must
                        Breathe, I must tell myself that

                        All is the same as before, all is
                        The same as before, I must smile

                        And it all
                        Goes away.

My relationship with
The authorities

Boiled down to this:

                        There's nothing,
                        There's nothing
                        We can
                        Do,
                        You are to
                        Blame.

And at night when I walk down the alley,
                        I hear your name,
                        Freedom,

When that group of lads
Passes me by
                        I hear your name,
                        Freedom,

When
Blood covers my
Legs
                        I whisper
                        Freedom.

...

Translated by: Daniela Hendea and Leonard Ciocan






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