Читать книгу Divide and Rule - Walid Bitar - Страница 6

Hypnotize me, an emancipated

slave compromised by tacit acceptance

of the status quo – may I flow faster

than flash-flood water down the drains

into the sea. Doesn’t look like rain,

background of your still life you’re angry

I sell as a paint-by-numbers set,

or a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle.

Didn’t stick my leg out – you tripped

single-handedly after a few,

a very few, too many. Self-hatred’s

career-threatening. There’s much I owe

you for diverting unbearable pressure.

Wait until you regain consciousness

from a beating I’ll resume administering

and, in the meantime, lick my own wounds,

blisters I prick after state-sponsored walking –

transliterated, the names of athletes

caught clearing hurdles, or knocking them over.

Wouldn’t underestimate this rabble

if I were their coach. I’m of their number,

must compete in our teeming slum.

Trash-talking beggars I grant pardons.

Something I wouldn’t call a conscience

serves me, like Rottweiler or seneschal.

Since I can’t afford either, the sound

of my thinking out loud suffices.

Laugh at it – it becomes the laughter.