Barbora Nemčeková

***

i.i
if you have a window
or a balcony
I go there to watch

i.ii
a specific proximity is like
breathing in an open can of paint,
damp walls, the smell of freshly poured asphalt 

i.iii
I was leaving somewhere, packing my things.
I hoped they would say I should stay 

i.iv
a stone falls from the grip of my palm
I am the other side of the street, always below you
I sometimes have to pretend your finger is in my mouth, bitten down to the bone 

i.v
bend down lower
can you feel them carrying away a bit of us to the production halls?
parts must be stored at human body temperature 

i.vi
I have saved no refugees,
I run a bath once a month
the blister packs of my medication are plastic
I don't care by how many degrees I've warmed the planet,
all that matters is
what you think 

i.vii
with each day I spend in the bathtub and in bed
I am one step closer to invisibility
I feel my skin sagging
I am an undiscovered cave
where they go to melt ice with industrial heaters

soon only porous rocks will remain
smooth places will be replaced
by irregularly shaped protrusions

I wonder what it would be like
to be able to afford procreation

 

Poem selected by Luboš Svoboda
Translated from Slovak by Františka Blažková