Autumn-winter 2004


  Autumn-winter 2004

  Ajla Terziæ

(Translated by the author)

Holiday is such a hollow word
even Madonna got over it’s
with no fullfilment attribute or
it’s the massive event that makes no
sence – so
have a happy Holiday of Supreme
Due to holiday we swear upon six-pack
holiday tummies carellesly we
shopping windows take us for a snack
whatever – for holidays we’re so
excitedly our Will

(Translated by the author)

I’m looking forward to get my
to display it & show to my
to parade in front of my highscholl
to get drunk the very same night
and recall: oh, college is my
best time ever;
to finally become Somebody
to work nine to five for fifty years
until my bladder explodes and arthritis take in,
to gossip my collegues and their stupid kids,
to go on the Adriatic sea in summertime
to retire
to die
yes, I’m looking forward to get my diploma

(translated by the author)

a mirror seethed in the corners
due to the owner
soft amber-handle brush that hides many DNA
ashtray – shell maybe in the previous life –
pailish is the name of the unknown hotel at the bottom
curved wire that holds the shabby nightdrawer
worn out leather of a dentist chair
dried foam on a tin plate

Just like Don Quixote I put it on my head
and depart to write another article for the papers

(translated by the author)

Tonight we talked about Gaudi
the famous architect whose name
recalls famous cheese etc.
A tram ran over him while he,
somewhere in the city
Freddy Mercury & Montserrat Caballé
sung about,
was admiring his own work.

In admiration – could be
but still
maybe he found a certain faux pas
obvious to him – the creator – only
And he stood almost defeated
realizing that there is no such an amends
to be taken
So he stood like a statue of salt
stood and misunderstood
as a worm April rain
till the tram came across
turning its Christmas bells
into funeral.

(translated by the author)

newly wedded
in their curtainless flat and
balcony bamboo chairs
purchased by the road
the morning after
she went out on a balcony
and somewhat nervously
began hitting plastic mould
with an ice-pick
- lost taking from ang lee’s ice storm –
according to her zealed motions
it can be suggested
that she’ll be the one
that will break the ice for them

(translated by the author)

We crawl out
from this city
from their skin
leaving it
very satisfied with our
new complexion
process is ongoing
cities are innumerable

One day someone might
crawl out from us too

(translated by the author)

People sit silent in the dark
People are at war
People are bored
People are frustrated
People are afraid of the Others
People are fucked up over the exams
People are worried upon gossips
People rush
People hate each other
People are invisible
People attend poetry/literary evenings
People go to school to become artsits
People try hard to look smart
People try hard
People – get laid!

(translated by the author)

Life is elsewhere
but maybe right here
at hand
in a plain chair & cup of coffee
in sounds from the pot
boiling in extasy
in some fingers entwined
in hair
when two of us
take our drops while
epiphany drops
in a concert ticket
preserved under the glass
in a cigarette smoke
from your mouth
in pain – the real one –
that calls you home
life is eventually in
broken condom