DEVIL WITH THE CANDLESTICK
4
Leave me alone, then, I could die as easily and without
uprisings;
dampness spread over the whole city and the false
witnesses
placed their hands over the fire as if they were throwing
away the Gospel.
And all the plans for the great escape remained sealed
in the useless box
so that even if they opened it they wouldn’t find but a
bit of snow from a childish walk
one can survive with such deceits.
It was an unforgettable sundown; resting my head
onto fat Teresa’s breasts, I was reading Dostoevsky
dreaming of the death of innocence or so much pain
that God had to exist;
I held the acetylene lamp at the entrance of the country
theater,
the female singer had lost her voice and was searching
under the chairs for it
I was an enlarged midget, an alcoholic eunuch swimming
in the mirror,
since they wished it, as they threw an embryo in acid,
while my co-passengers smoke, unsuspectedly, their
pipes like calm nightmares.
Then, each time one comes in your life, it’s as if
he steals a gramophone needle from you until
finally you have to sing alone.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 