BRONCHITIS
- a psychopoem -
I accept the diagnosis.
The body has a number of familiar reactions
to known illnesses.
The symptoms are provoked in dreams:
Naked in person, I seek a cure
I seek black cat, beard, mud, wool
a dirty story and disfiguration
with dirty hands, just so that you get the picture.
This is chronic fear.
I breathe for two.
I burn for three.
You have seen through me from the inside:
navel and roe, psychoclitoric places
the divans of the flesh where passion might reap
...negatives...
Quietly, you've outworked yourself
it's a conspiracy. A mole.
Interestingly enough,
you're becoming less of a stranger to me.
My pores are yours.
You can be domesticated, you're resilient
and resistant. Mot juste.
The therapy should be changed.
Alter the place of living
fly away to the high clear skies
and undertake something with a future
I know, but I've got better things to do.
Don't be embarrassed.
You've got a whole paddock for your endeavours.
I won't tell anyone you're here.
They are only human.
Translated by Ilija Casule and Thomas Shapcott
