The Body of Your Unrest
we spread out through cities
avoiding the fields
rarely dropping by museums
are you counting the buried places
how many are there yet to see
even their names I no longer know
screaming across the mountains
we stop by library shelves
to drink up
a gallon of high quality mustiness
in how many of them will we grow old
is there anything
that deserves your affection
do not stop me now
I have a book more valuable than the Bible
lead me to new cities
I will warm up yesterday’s solitude for you
I have learned everything
I only sometimes cut myself with silence
to find you a reason to complain
bite the spider’s web that connects us
I do not hide my words for safekeeping
chase away the interpreters of my passions
bribe the guides given to us
let the crumbs remain as curtains
of the day in which we will bathe together
wear new suits
lie in a coffin
and cover it
Vestibule of Death
this morning the ships set sail from the port
in my defense nobody will stand
in a short time I’ll be left to
the chroniclers of my nakedness
a herald will knock on your door
with news about what is yet to come
offering you enough time to be late
the waves were dying on me
vanishing in groups, steeped in their flight
my whisper reveals secrets
to conquerors from all over the world
I am spread out like the coast
beds beneath me creak
I do not choose the fetal position
lest I fall asleep
with tangled senses they will lead me
in front of buyers of misgivings
lest I ooze longing
and seduce sidewalks of awkwardness
my words no longer bind me
my words will free me
before the dark and a new crime
© Jovanka Uljarević. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2017 by Peter Stonelake. All rights reserved.