Transitions №7

Author: Gali-Dana Singer

Translated by Tatiana Bonch-Osmolovskaya, edited by Mark Wingrave

***

no one believes
in
POEMS
in case of defeat from a passing-by rain
would they really wither you
or would you listen to them
wet and dry
and warped in blots of depraved pink
blotting paper of memories
and
in a puddle
through reflections
thinned by gasoline liquefaction
would they protect
the half-drowned kittens
and ducklings wrapped in grey porridge
like our nets oh daddy what is in our nets
and yet
how people are so enclosed in
POEMS
in case of defeat from passing-by rain
are needed for some reason
but no one knows which
and by this obliviousness for the road
in obsidian of wet asphalt
they are needed
like a different word.
so mirror your words, they say
so that you wouldn’t know where you are from
and which of you is another you-word
looking point-blank
from obsidian blindness, until
impaired vision becomes your own

survivor error

^^^
the prepredetermined
does not know what’s never been before
no one to speak to
no one to say
no one to hear:
nowt good
situation for not us.

^^^
no one to take
the necessary actions to the party
in indefinable circumstances
in closely rest conditions.
conditional and conditional are the movements
of shadows in the wind
white wall can only considered to be white.

^^^
no one to draw an invisible line
between themselves and mindful care.
just stumble and here it is inseparable
and this is the essence of the former:
that never have been.
you can draw with a compass in the air
chirping of cicadas
chittering of crickets
not everyone can distinguish them.

^^^
no one to carry
through all of her life
and yet she is carried and rushes
and she and she
as wind blown
fragments of tin from the roofs

***
Glass beaded dragonflies
in a rusty wire fence
are visible only to those
who knows
where they are
Unthinkable cold  
scares the uninitiated
old-timers do not remember
such
a chirp
On a summer night saying goodbye 
to unprecedented freedom
you try to remind yourself
happy
days
unripe piercers
hide in rods
green white
lights
of loss

Day and night schedule

Inhale
don’t inhale
say A
don’t say B
what fell
you can’t lift
it’ll get up by itself
what’s lost
you won’t find
it’ll return by itself
Inhale deeply
open wide
though don’t open your lips
inhale accurately
save constantly changing numbers
on the retina
the numbers of noble gases and carbon dioxide
unique formula of suffocation
matches each loss
cultivate a heavenly garden bed
before it is covered by chickweed
of gravitational collapse
inhale
deep
don’t inhale
the light
the milk
the mist
who has ordered this
lord of which universe
puts a muzzle on us
of the Canis Lelapse constellation
inhale
down the neck
to the back of the head
on the verge of collapse
don’t inhale
the death
the calmness
don’t inhale