POETRY SAMPLES FROM THE FIRST ISSUE OF
:
Raymond Federman / THE SHOE MANIFESTATION
Mike Magazinnik / dingWed (Wedding March)
Inna Mattei / CITADELIC 1
Genrich Sapgir / THE HOG
the warm air rises up, touches my hair and permeates me with the disquieting
feeling. i look around. i see the banners on the houses, banners licking air,
puddles where my reflection is but a glimpse. the cigarette butt is a reminder of
a rocket which was shot to the moon but came back falling from the agonizing
striated clouds. and now these clouds are hanging over the roofs, the tulips, the
flower beds, the wet bicycles. the balconies are the amassment of rails and wires, and
buildings walk on their toes to get rid of these annoying structures. and i sit on
my bed in the room, my toes touching the rough fabric of the carpet, and i
know that if i stand on my knees, the texture of the carpet will burn my skin, go
into my ears, lungs, stomach and benumb
me to stay there forever.
a wire runs through the sky. it's a power-line. the exposure to its radiation will
turn my dogs into mutants and they will be running with their tongues out, and
whatever they lick will burn, and it will all burn to ashes and the ashes will
blacken the moon, and the moon will fall to form a hole in people's mouths and
they will gape. they will never say words, but only shake their stony chins not
being able to say anything.
the mermaids will come out of the sea and create artificial pools and
swim around in flower beds, in drowning tulips.
i will still be here, my toes pressing against the brown linoleum floor, for the
carpet was taken away by the dogs when they had nothing to play with. i will
be sitting there combing my hair, but the mirror was also taken away, so was
the comb. i will be combing my hair with my long milky nails and my hair will
bend around my face like a helmet. and my body will also bend until it will be
reshaped into giant tweezers, so i can walk around on my toes (over the mess,
over the ashes) and tweeze out the eyes of the onlookers. this will be
emotionally satisfying, especially for the onlookers, as more and more of them
will gather on my path.
i will pluck out the eyes carefully and put them into a readable newspaper. a
newspaper with news about politics and weather. it would say that yesterday,
for example, it was supposed to snow. and if it did
not snow, it is nobody's business to ask why. may be the snow machine melted,
may be angels had no more feathers to waste around. one astronaut told me that
there is a huge shortage of feathers there, and all the chickens were killed under
a secret decree. i would believe him, he did not seem dangerous and there was
no reason to deny him any pleasure.
Illustration by Mike Meskin
Sidorov decided to kill his hog. The hog saw Sidorov & understood, grunting with fear ran pressing its underbelly deep into the snow. Sidorov chased it: "I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker...!" The hog was running along the fence screeching like hell. Trying to escape Sidorov, the pork ran into the yard of Yegorov. Sidorov & Yegorov chased the hog. Sidorov held a knife behind his back talked to the hog so sweet: "My dear, my good..." Yegorov - boom - hit it on the head with a chunk of wood. The hog - thud - fell in the snow. Sidorov wrestled it down with his stomach & knee. Stabbed it with a knife deep right into its soul and widened the wound from ear to ear! That's how we are! Blood gushes in a pot. The hog grunts swimming in its blood. Sidorov is very pleased with his friend: Yegorov gave him quite a hand!
Translated from Russian by Igor Satanovsky
It can't go on. It can't go on like that. It's not possible. Doesn't make sense. Somebody's got to do something. Anything. It means nothing any more. Nobody knows what's happening. There is everything and there is nothing. It's going in all kinds of directions. Can't control it. Doesn't work any more. It's as if... As if... It means nothing. It all seems lost. Lost nowhere. It can't go on like that. It's too much. It turns. It gets all confused. It's pure chaos. It spreads. It goes on and on. Somebody anybody do something. It gets hot. It gets cold. It turns in circles. It disappears and reappears just like that. It vibrates. It throbs. It makes funny noises. It looks like it's going to do something and it does nothing. Sometimes it almost moves as if...
Shoe. One shoe. Two shoes. Three shoes. Chouchou. Pchoupshoupshou and give me the chou. Choushoe. Chou here. Shoe there. Chou chou everywhere. Chou chou shoe. My chou. My little shoe. My chouchou. My big chou. Chou me. Chou her. Chouchette. Chou them. Grandma shoe. Grandpa chou. Little shoe. Big chou. Small shoe. Tight shoe. Red shoe. Same chou. One chou. Two choux. Three shoes. Shoeshoes, More Chou. Chouchou. Pchoupshoepshoupshoe. Enormous chou. Gigantic chou. What a chou. Give up the shoe. Chou here chou there. Can't chou it any more. It's as if the chou...
It can't go on. It can't go on like that. Nobody knows what to do. What to say any more. No way to describe it. To control it any more. It drives everybody nuts. It palpitates. It sneezes. It spits. It ejaculates. Sometimes it even laughs at us. As if ... It could go on for a long time. That would be terrible. Forever maybe. It could...
Bride cuts the cake
Bride likes the cut
Cut bride the cake
Make bride the cut
Bride feed the groom
Bride bribe the cook
Feed bride the groom
Bride groom the spook
Groom feed the bride
Feed cut the cake
Bake groom the pride
Groom bride the fake
March bride the groom
Kill bugs the spray
Bell toll the wed
Sky land the grey
Bride needs the cake
Bride makes the cut
Cut bride the cake
Cut cake the bride
Bride feeds the groom
Groom bride the cut
Cake bride the groom
Bride groom the like
Groom cake the bride
Cut cake the feed
Like groom the bride
Bride cut the groom
Cut groom the make
Cake cut the bride
Feed cake the wed
Ding bride the wake.
1996 ©