Ondina Uncrowned XI

a forest leaf breaks on the thorn of a black rose
where Rilke is dying and dipping his eyes in lime,
where you recognize spawn, yeast and garden snails,
but rejoice! – my perch quivers in a fistful of salt

after the flutters and flies come the killing
live coals from which shreds of light come near
to smear and obstruct the black fluvial swilling
grasp madness by the balls and the Theban mugs of beer

the air and terminal argon is just a crock,
the bait for bleaks and the seedy silences of dead genes,
wherefrom a shaded tightrope, Grock pisses from his cock

into a test tube, into a tomato skin, into the debris of Oz
into the most horny hummer of a hole in erogenous women
where the body melts and oozes – Cola.

Ondina bez magistrala XI

Ondina bez magistrala XI

list lijesa lomi se na trnu mrke ruže
gdje Rilke krepava i moči oči i kreč,
gdje prepoznaješ ikru, kvas i vrtne puže,
ali slavi! – u šaci soli drhti moj grgeč

u slijedu prhova i muha slijedi kokanje,
živi gar odakle su niti svijetle stigle
da mrču i zapretu flusno crno lokanje
da dohvate bijes muda i tebske krigle.

u zraku i svršnom vazduhu piše se krok,
mrs ukljeva i sadne tišine mrtvih gena,
na koje, u hladu, na žici, iz kite piša Grock

u epruveti, u kori rajčice, u kršu iz Oza
u najbrundavijoj bužici erogenih žena
gdje se topi tijelo iz kog\' curka – boza.