1. Contrite While Pain Lasts
Nothing like the blessing of an abscess
to make me repent, while it is throbbing
I feel bad about every nasty word I have
ever said, the religiously uplifting effect
won’t last long, I’m opting for antibiotics
tonight, then I’ll stop feeling contrite
For laughing at stuck-up snobbish English
expressions, stiff upper-lip pronunciations,
I felt guilty when the boss called me in to
give a rendition in my imitation English
accent, everybody laughing with me at
the caricature I had drawn of
An innocent colleague, quite a sinecure
for what ails us at the office, but at the
expense of an innocent victim – at least
I’m contrite while pain lasts, maybe I’ll
earn a few hours in heaven this way –
until I start laughing again, I suppose…
2. Turning Into A Lady
Oh my, the abscess is turning me
into a lady! I have to eat soft food,
cannot open my mouth, take small
bites to spare my injured tongue
Eat meditatively, ruminating quietly,
I feel elegant, one abscess and I
acquire some religion, polish and
decency, feeling almost willing
To meet up with strangers, though
it would be too much, a hunchback
syndrome à la Quasimodo is ready
to jump out amongst strangers
My speech would give my origins away,
the incessant noise will reveal the genes
of my Attila the Hun forebears, I will
stay here and revel in the feeling of
Refined composure and deportment,
smiling at everyone, especially since
the tie borrowed from hubby elicits
positive comment everywhere
Normally I am the local barbarian,
chewing loudly, closing drawers
with a crashing explosion, pushing
my chair back with a crash
Jumping up and down, climbing onto
desks to fix the blinds, ignoring
everyone with headphones
over my ears…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem