Past and Future

Every now and then
I as I was and I as I will be
get hungry
and arrive before dawn.

The former is an armoured soldier
with a gaping wound in his chest,
his face looks paler
than a fledgling day
falling out of the moon's nest.

The latter wears
a powdered wig and a crimson suit,
on his head shakes a feathered hat
and a rapier jingles at his hip.

I feed my past bitter buckwheat
boiled in salted water
to sate his savage hunger
and keep him dead.

I feed my future sprouted
barley bursting with crisp life
to make him tall and heavy
and more impatient.

Then I open my door
and let them both out:
I offer one the vinegar of night
and the other steaming milk of dawn.

These drinks do not mix
and I turn around feeling quite sick
as the blue tongue of day licks
my head like a lolly on a twin stick.

Вланес, 2010

Сертификат Поэзия.ру: серия 790 № 83457 от 05.11.2010

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