i i i ?!

i suglasnik sam
saglasna sa svime
Što kažeš
pre polaganja svečanog venca
na trpezu
kratkoročnog večeravanja
sa uraslom dlakom na jeziku
ljuštim zubne naslage jutra
gustoće krompirskog taloga
i grizem izvrnute obraze
koje ne osveštavaš ovih dana
miomirisom čežnje
ili svešteničkim dodirom
izvanzemaljske inteligencije
koji kaže sve ti je oprošteno
nema ni zlatnog rashlađenog krsta
kojeg celivam podno poređanih grumena
ko ti je skrojio lice
i ištavio telo
pogrešio boje
nepopunjene dečje slikovnice albino bele
osim dvotački koje razvode ključne kosti
i dogovaraju sledeći sled događaja
nastaviće se
trebalo bi
trebalo da
ako onda
jer onda
da da da
dakako da da
ako ne onda
i celu noć svira santana
crna žena grakće i klepeće
prozorske kastanjete
i prozirne fleke
u kojima tražim oblike oblaka
ovaj liči na zmijskog cara
a ovaj na Lebkuchen
bez nekog naročitog natpisa
jer brz si da zataškaš svoje stope
metvicom podigneš prašinu
i preoreš prethodne brazde
ipak džepovi drže dragocenosti pod jezikom
plaze se na tvoje merodavnosti
vidi šta sam našla
ne krnji
ne smaraj
ne žedni
ako ukradem dovoljno bedževa
možda pobedim u ovoj video igrici raskola
u inventaru već imam
dve stesane pšenične vlati
uneređene sanjive tanjire
izdahle gajde pored originalnog kofera
prapostojbina ćutanja
kad tačno nastupa
i ko veze granice
koga je briga
stidi me se
i stidim te se
to je sniska strasti.

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PITANJA I PRETPOSTAVKE O LJUBAVI – DANILO KIŠ: “MANSARDA” (ODLOMAK)

A . A . A

Alexander Tinei

“No sve je to između nas počelo mnogo ranije.

U to vreme, kada mislim da sam je prvi put sreo, grozničavo sam tražio neke odgovore od života, tako da sam av bio zaokupljen samim sobom, to jest pitanjima života.

Evo nekih od pitanja na koje sam tražio odgovore:

– besmrtnost duše

– besmrtnost seksa

– bezgrešno začeće

– materinstvo

– očinstvo

– otadžbina

– kosmopolitizam

– pitanje ishrane i

– pitanje organske izmene materije

– metempsihoza

– život na drugim planetama i

– zvezdama

– starost zemljina

– razlika između kulture i civilizacije

– rasno pitanje

– apolitičnost ili angažovanost

– dobrota ili bezobzirnost

– Natčovek ili Svečovek

– idealizam ili materijalizam

– Don-Kihot ili Sančo Pansa

– Hamlet ili Don Žuan

– pesimizam ili optimizam

– smrt ili samoubistvo

itd., itd.

Ovi i još desetak ovakvih problema stajali su predamnom kao četa ćudljivih i ćutljivih sfinga. I…

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Nathaniel Whittemore DEATH AND TACOS

Waiting in line at a taco stand for my number to be called
I started talking to a six-year-old kid kicking his little foot against
A curb and waiting for his dad to come out of the bathroom.
And he said, “Why do you cough so much?”
And I said, “Because I have cancer.”
And he said, “Bummer.”
And I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “Does it hurt?”
And I said, “Only when I breathe.”
And he said, “Why don’t you hold your breath?”
And I puffed out my cheeks like Louis Armstrong and
Let him see it and held it for as long as I could
Before exploding into a hacking eruption of
Stupid sounds and saliva.
And he laughed.
And I coughed and laughed.
And he said, “Feel better?”
And I said, “A bit.”
And I showed him how much better with my
Thumb and index finger. And pointed at a green thread
of mucous that had dribbled out onto my chin
He said, “Gross.” And wiping it off
I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “My granddaddy had cancer before he died on the hospital.”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yeah on the hospital.”
And I said, “Oh, yeah?”
And he said, “He used to give me candy all of the times I ever saw him.”
And I said, “Sorry kid, I don’t have any candy.”
And, deflated, he said, “Are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yea, are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “Probably.”
And he said, “OK.”
And, upon giving that gracious consent, the boy’s dad came out and
The boy said, “Well, bye!” And I said, “See ya.”
And he ran off.
And, for a while, between the two of us,
Dying became so very ordinary, like candy or tacos or semantics,
And death itself suddenly just this obnoxious third-wheel
A pitiful nuisance with nothing better to do with his time
Than to tag along with me and this six-year-old kid.
And I sat smiling in the sun and imagining death at the moment,
A sad sack of lonely-self slumped somewhere in the distance,
As I waited for my number to come up.

–from Rattle #29, Summer 2008