About Me - I. Poem by Marton Dezso

I smoke two packs of cigarettes
A day maybe three or more if I’m not counting
I wake up at six a.m. compose a hell of a coffee
Smoke and leave for work.

I take the tram which brings me through
Factories, closed for twenty years now.
Deserted dusty dirty compounds.

I was raised in a village
The hills and the pastures
Were my playground grass
Trees wild rabbits I remember
Those rains
When you could smell the forests
For days and mother called
’Dinner’ she knew I was always around.

But my grass became the concrete
My trees blockhouses of fifteen
Stocks at least.
People in the city don’t know my name
Or greet me, don’t know who my father is
Even if we’re neighbours,
We pass each other like strangers
Staying silent in the elevators.