009

haiku from this part of the world
should picture
an old man with a partisan face
buying a Happy Meal at McDonald’s,
his granddaughter with a Barbie doll in her hand,
a couple of flags for it is a National Holiday
and a black stray bitch with pups in tow
at the station for Velika Gorica.
        but, I do not want to fuck around with the form.

haiku from my childhood would picture
a store,
a bottle of Ožujsko beer in my grandfather’s hand,
a bottle of Ožujsko beer in Mate Zagreb’s hand,
and a priest who is just passing by.

a part of the moment is a three-year old me
sitting on a crate of beer, while the two teach him to swear:
I fuck you and the nails from Jesus’ cross/ Virgin cow / comrade God!!

        and flags, naturally, for it is National Hero’s Day.

fuck it, nowhere have I seen as many flags as
in the places of my childhood.

009

009

haiku s ovih prostora
trebao bi sadržavati
starca s partizanskim crtama lica
koji kupuje Happy meal u McDonaldsu,
njegovu unuku s Barbikom u ruci,
par zastava jer je Dan državnosti
i crnu skotnu kučku lutalicu
na stanici na Veliku Goricu.
        ali, ne da mi se zajebavati s formom.

haiku iz mog djetinjstva sadržavao bi
dućan,
bocu Ožujskog u djedovoj ruci,
bocu Ožujskog u ruci Mate Zagreba,
i popa koji je tu sasvim slučajno.

u momentu još sudjeluje i trogodišnje ja
kako sjedi na gajbi pive, a ova dvojica ga uče psovati:
Jeben ti čavle Isukrstove/ kravu Gospu/ druga Boga!!

        i zastave, naravno, jer je Dan borca.

jebote, nigdje toliko zastava kao
u mjestima mog djetinjstva.