here from the belly of this whale
the city is a glittering shoal
and
drummond's statue has its back to the ocean -


tending the fish within
to be able to eat them one day

waiting for a woman to emerge from the precision of bones

one day we feel happy in our cetacean garden
and she walks lightly beside me
dreaming of the saddest sunday in the world in the suburbia of the other side

one day we are middle-aged and we drink because there's no other option

and the crane on the quay will be crushed like a dead insect
facing the thousand strips of the water's throat

the sea is in the photograph of men not in the dream of statues

Translation: Ana Hudson