No one for themselves, everyone for no one Poem by Nicolas Born

As it seems to me the harsh light
in which I, silent, slumped, continue to breathe
- cleared-out room, chairs on tables
I was never so haphazard

A newspaper blowing in the stairwell
I feel like I'm on a ship, flashes
of brass and neat handwriting in the bureau.
Pain is ground down until the world
finds out. The world doesn't find out

The earth repeated itself, I think we've been
sidelined, you and I, progenitors of nothing.
Familiar ways gone by the wayside
intercepted at whatever destination

Intercepted intelligence, make-believe life
Data monsters wanted.
Good poverty, its want puts me in a flurry
everywhere silent money exacts toil

From the window I see crowds
entering halls, harried faces
in the gushing machine, vacant morning
no one any longer for themselves, everyone for no one

Your sodden shoes next to you
you're so steadfast in your feelings for me, that
it's too much for me,
the crop glows, science's pomp
the world beheld, figured out what's not behind

Sun there, the ground between you and me is sifted
you're so beautiful driven from everything
we can't meet up inside
nor in this well-tended park

Translated by Marty Hiatt