INTIMATE LYRICISM Poem by Slavko Jendričko

When I first ran away from home
you buried the seed of death under the pillow
and took the linens out into the wind
breathed the bed's light into your hands
and for a long time sifted it through your fingers.

While I was hitching a ride from the angels
you neither cooked nor washed
you lived just like the angels to whom I stuck
out my thumb.

Deep in the desert of stars
I thought about the pig
which you fattened full of mercy in the pigsty
and watched my head being shaved overnight.