DESPERATE POEM

This time I make an appeal,
I don’t hesitate to plead
Whoever you elect in the people’s
Next round of reiteration of will
To the powers of minister of poetry:
 
I want to be tubby! Let everyone see
How much of me. Spare me the dictates
Of slenderness, fitness verses, coaches
Of poetry books for healthy life of the nation.
I feed on myself, so however I come out!
 
Chosen ones, go ahead and compete with calm souls
To be Miss New Sensitivity of the timeless person.
I’ve given up the stage and conquest in advance.
How could you overlook me, so substantial,
You reduced, experimental, textless ones?
 
I don’t ask much, just to be pardoned
For excess heaviness, the spare tire of polysemy,
For those of us who cannot sing outside
Our language of polyphony, untranslatable
In a style of careless, natural dressing,
 
For blues improvisation right on the spot.
For the sultry singer’s smoker’s cough.
And for meaning’s share in an idle stroll, as if in jest
The half truth that’s handy in hunger from the thick
Wine where genuine lonely veritas resides.
 
Let it be that we are not obligated
To extend our age macrobiotically.
Forgive us at least the occasional rotten tooth.
Let us calmly slurp beer from the can without comment
On the slender legs of your wineglasses, half full of ice.

OČAJNA PESMA

OČAJNA PESMA

Ovim putem apelujem,
Ne libim se da preklinjem
Koga vi odaberete u narodnom
Krugu ponavljanja volje
Za moć ministra poezije:
 
Hoću da budem debela! Neka se vidi
Koliko me ima. Manite me diktata
Mršavosti, fitnes stihova, trenera
Knjiga pesama za zdrav život nacije.
Sobom se hranim, pa kakva ispadnem!
 
Izabrani, mirne duše konkurišite za mis
Nove osećajnosti bezvremenog čoveka.
Unapred sam odustala od scene i pobede.
Kako ste mogli da me previdite, ovoliku,
Redukovani, eksperimentalni, bez teksta?
 
Ne tražim puno, samo pomilovanje
Za višak težine, za naslage polisemije,
Za nas koji ne umemo da pevamo izvan
Svog jezika polifonije, neprevodive
U stilu nemarnog, prirodnog odevanja,
 
Za bluz improvizacije na licu mesta.
Za pušačko kašljucanje pevačice.
I za udeo smisla u praznom hodu, kao u šali
Pola zbilje što dobro dođe u gladi od gustog
Vina u kojem istina sušta usamljena obitava.
 
Dopustite da nismo u obavezi
Produžetka veka makrobiotikom.
Bar pokoji pokvaren zub nam oprostite.
Mirno da ločemo pivo iz limenke bez komentara
Za vitke noge vaših vinskih čaša s ledom do pola.