Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Adi Keissar

I don’t know how to read poetry

I went to a poetry reading
this guy stood there
read words
in a serious tone
so I know his words are important.
Then this woman got up
read words
in a somber tone
so I know her words are moving.
Then another guy got up
read words
in a tone like a play
so I know that he knows
he knows
how to read poetry.

And all I wanted was
for them to read like
they are taking me to a family dinner
at their parents
and in the middle of everyone eating
lift
the table cloth off the table
and fling it
up in the air
with all the dishes.

Because what is reading poetry if not
spreading your legs
shitting in the middle of the street
yelling at someone who cuts in line
placing pots on the stove and burning the food
hunting little moments of happiness
then executing them in the town square
dialling a random number,
asking: do you have water running from the tap?
Yes
What did you expect, Coca Cola?
and hanging up
pissing into your plant
smiling huge when you have no teeth
asking someone to spread their hand flat on the table
pull out a knife
and stab quickly between their fingers
one two three
inviting people over for coffee
pour salt in their coffee
tell them I ran out of milk
tell them
Get out of my house
I don’t know you.

אני לא יודעת להקריא שירה

אני לא יודעת להקריא שירה

הָלַכְתִּי לְאֵרוּ ע שִּירָה
עָמַד שָם אֶחָד
הִּקְרִּיא אֶת הַמִּלִּים
בְטוֹן רְצִּינִּי
כְדֵי שֶאֲנִּי אֵדַע שֶהַמִּלִּים שֶל ו חֲשוּבוֹת.
אַחַר כָךְ עָלְתָה אַחַת -
הִּקְרִּיאָה אֶת הַמִּלִּים
בְטוֹן נוּגֶה
כדֵי שֶאֲנִּי אֵדַע שֶהַמִּלִּים שֶלָהּ מְרַגְשוֹת.
אַחַר כָךְ עָלָה אֶחָד -
הִּקְרִּיא אֶת הַמִּלִּים
בְטוֹן שֶל הַצָגָה
כְדֵי שֶאֲנִּי אֵדַע שֶהוּא יוֹדֵ ע
הוּא יוֹדֵ ע
לְהַקְרִּיא שִּירָה.

וְכָל מָה שֶרָצִּיתִּי הָיָה
שֶהֵם יַקְרִּיאוּ כְאִּלוּ
הֵם לוֹקְחִּים אוֹתִּי לַאֲרוּחָה
מִּשְפַחְתִּית אֵצֶל הַהוֹרִּים שֶלָהֶם
וּבָאֶמְצַע שֶכֻּלָם אוֹכְלִּים
יָרִּימוּ אֶת
הַמַפָה מֵהַשֻּלְחָן
וְיָעִּיפוּ אוֹתָהּ כָכָה
בָאֲוִּיר
עִּם כָל הַכֵלִּים.

כִּי מָה זֶה לְהַקְרִּיא שִּירָה אִּם לֹא
לִּפְתֹ ח רַגְ ליִּם
לְחַרְבֵן בְאֶמְצַע הָרְחוֹב
לִּצְעֹק עַל מִּישֶהוּ שֶעוֹקֵף אוֹתְךָ בַתוֹר
לְהַעֲמִּיד סִּירִּים עַל הַגָז וְלִּשְרֹף אֶת הָאֹכֶל
לָצוּד רְגָעִּים קְטַנִּים שֶל אֹשֶר
וּלְהוֹצִּיא אוֹתָם לַהוֹרֵג בְכִּכַר הָעִּיר
לְצַלְצֵל לְמִּסְפָר אַקְרָאִּי
לִּ שאֹל: יוֹצֵא לָכֶם מַיִּם מֵהַבֶרֶז?
כֵן
מָה חֲשַבְתֶם, שֶיֵצֵא לָכֶם קוֹלָה?
וּלְנַתֵק
לְהַשְתִּין לְתוֹךְ הֶעָצִּיץ שֶלְךָ
לְחַיֵךְ חִּיוּךְ עֲנָק כְשֶאֵין לְךָ שִּנַיִּם
לְבַקֵש מִּמִּישֶהוּ לִּפְרֹש אֶת הַיָד עַל שֻּלְחָן
לְהָנִּיף אֶת הסַכִּין
וְלִּנְעֹץ בִּמְהִּירוּת בֵין כָל הָאֶצְבָעוֹת
אַחַת שְתַיִּם שָלוֹש
לְהַזְמִּין אֲנָשִּים הַבַיְתָה לְקָפֶה
לָשִּים לָהֶם מֶלַח בַקָפֶה
לְהַגִּיד נִּגְמַר לִּי הֶחָלָב
לְהַגִּיד לָהֶם
תָעוּפוּ מֵהַבַיִּת שֶלִּי
אֲנִּי לֹא מַכִּיר אֶתְכֶם.

Close

I don’t know how to read poetry

I went to a poetry reading
this guy stood there
read words
in a serious tone
so I know his words are important.
Then this woman got up
read words
in a somber tone
so I know her words are moving.
Then another guy got up
read words
in a tone like a play
so I know that he knows
he knows
how to read poetry.

And all I wanted was
for them to read like
they are taking me to a family dinner
at their parents
and in the middle of everyone eating
lift
the table cloth off the table
and fling it
up in the air
with all the dishes.

Because what is reading poetry if not
spreading your legs
shitting in the middle of the street
yelling at someone who cuts in line
placing pots on the stove and burning the food
hunting little moments of happiness
then executing them in the town square
dialling a random number,
asking: do you have water running from the tap?
Yes
What did you expect, Coca Cola?
and hanging up
pissing into your plant
smiling huge when you have no teeth
asking someone to spread their hand flat on the table
pull out a knife
and stab quickly between their fingers
one two three
inviting people over for coffee
pour salt in their coffee
tell them I ran out of milk
tell them
Get out of my house
I don’t know you.

I don’t know how to read poetry

I went to a poetry reading
this guy stood there
read words
in a serious tone
so I know his words are important.
Then this woman got up
read words
in a somber tone
so I know her words are moving.
Then another guy got up
read words
in a tone like a play
so I know that he knows
he knows
how to read poetry.

And all I wanted was
for them to read like
they are taking me to a family dinner
at their parents
and in the middle of everyone eating
lift
the table cloth off the table
and fling it
up in the air
with all the dishes.

Because what is reading poetry if not
spreading your legs
shitting in the middle of the street
yelling at someone who cuts in line
placing pots on the stove and burning the food
hunting little moments of happiness
then executing them in the town square
dialling a random number,
asking: do you have water running from the tap?
Yes
What did you expect, Coca Cola?
and hanging up
pissing into your plant
smiling huge when you have no teeth
asking someone to spread their hand flat on the table
pull out a knife
and stab quickly between their fingers
one two three
inviting people over for coffee
pour salt in their coffee
tell them I ran out of milk
tell them
Get out of my house
I don’t know you.

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère