Because I watch you wake, I can never awaken.
Watching you sleep, I may never sleep.
And so sleep goes elsewhere to a place
too tedious to mention…
Because in evening I watch you dress, never dressing myself,
For in morning, you undress your shadow.
I never expected it to be this way: to invade
another’s savior brain so I could tour
yesterday, the Guggenheim of my bedroom,
the heliotropes of ceilings.
Because I watch you make atomic bombs out of Quaker
oat-boxes instead of cameras
Because the bomb is more shameful and thus more interesting;
I cannot watch you put together and take apart the octillion atoms
we need to be…
And if I watch you die, I should die too, but I go on
with sweetling childhood in my left shoe, reeking of ennui.
Because I cannot mimick you for the sake of repeating calendar days.
For in being all of this, one ceases to exist.
i remember rimbaud mentioning the heliotropes, also a guggenheim going down in the atlantic, and i remember a likely thing to be heard in the world, the moment my breath drinks every word
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Some seminal lines here: ...invade another’s savior brain so I could tour yesterday......I go on with sweetling childhood in my left shoe, reeking of ennui... Yes, I understand the why of mysterious disappearances, I just cannot conceive how you get back to write about it. Rgds, Ivan