Miroslav Mićanović

1960 / Brčko

Institute For Humanistic Studies

train goes. train goes. train goes. train goes. on
an edge of a field where a man makes love to three
women. train goes. train goes. train

goes. into the night in whose depth small grasshoppers grow
and light reaches your eye. train goes.
train goes. train goes. train

goes. to the place where i teach myself to think about
my left and my right thumb. train goes.
about cramps and afternoons. about joy. train goes. train

goes. where mary caresses herself with water. and poetry
is spoken in the hostel. train goes. train goes. train

goes. as the penitentiary chant. as the history
of prostitution. train goes. where the woman and man
change clothes. train goes. train goes. train

goes. where you will extend your hand and say the hill
is on fire like the body. the white cliffs of the island of vis.
you'll whisper bearded and black as a magpie. train

goes. you'll whisper as a lover with his middle
finger in the woman who wants it. train goes. train
goes. train goes. train goes. train

goes. at the edge of a field where a man
makes love to three women. is that art. is that
an artist. is that it? train

goes. train goes. train goes. train goes. reading
the poems of american poets i know there's a
poetry i'd like to write - train goes. train

goes. train goes. like the text of movement on an assembly
line - because, on the other side we, upright, stubbornly
grow old. train goes. train goes. train

goes. after all why dream of change: train goes.
train goes. where i like the endings of german films.
train goes. because it has the music of eternity. train

goes. train goes. train goes. on the balcony
Stephen's hair is one with the wind. train goes. train
goes. with Luke's sentence on fish and birds ... train

goes. train goes. train goes. & sitting i recognize.
train goes. & the two women in seats in front of me.
train goes. & i know the story of their suffering. train

goes. train goes. & what is the tiny word for the door
through which they've passed. train goes. train
goes. train goes. train goes. train goes. train

goes. - but, do i know how to think. train goes. like how to love.
train goes. and furthermore about poetry. oh lyn. train goes.
it would be written in prose: the woman next to me. train

goes. gives the sign to the beauty. train goes. train goes.
of greenery around us. but neither would i about faith.
train goes. in a word. train

goes. i would not yield before fishermen. water-carriers.
postmen. train goes. train goes. but can i
close my eyes. or continue reading. train goes. train

goes. & as though nothing happened.
will i arise. train goes. and say, something about suffering &
their bodies. or keep quiet. train

goes. train goes. train goes. & the greenery continues
& the women, in front of me, are leafing a booklet
& wir bauen zügig. train

goes. & they laugh, exchanging small civilities ...
train goes. train goes. at the edge of a field
where a man is making love to three women

Translated by Stipe Grgas
83 Total read