°µÍø½ûÇø

EARTHQUAKE IN MEXICO

I read: in the Hotel Romana

500 people died.

Only three were saved:

two lovers and one thief.

No, there's no more news,

love, in vain I look for details

of how that thief survived.

Ìý

ANSWERING MACHINE

I call you, you're not there,

just your answering machine's there, ping,

after the signal sounds

I may leave a message, pong.

You call me, I'm not here,

just my answering machine's here, pong,

after the signal sounds

you may leave a message, ping.

Ping-pong! Pong-ping!

My answering machine calls you,

you're not there, it leaves a message

on your answering machine,

your answering machine calls me,

I'm not here, it leaves a message

on my answering machine,

my answering machine calls your answering machine,

your answering machine's not there,

you lift the receiver, you say, ach,

this is me, if you're calling my answering machine

you can leave a message, och,

your answering machine is calling my answering machine,

my answering machine's not here,

I lift the receiver, I say, och,

this is me, if you're calling my answering machine,

you can leave a message, ach,

see how we're on call always,

each to each answerable.

Ìý

FAMOUS BLUE RAINCOAT

In my cup the sugar drowned,

in yours the honey quenched. The tea turned wistful.

You're hushed. I speak.

Hold up and don't worry me.

Your startled knees

huddle together in dusk.

Foreign people reach for us

from the screen. Drizzling

into the room is Cohen,Ìýmy brother,

my killer. I speak.

Hold me and don't worry.

I'm afraid with you.

Ìý

HEIGHT ABOVE SEA LEVEL

Up there everything's

lighter. You know that

from physics. Until

the descent: only desperate hope

prevents you

calling it fall.

Ìý

THEY WON'T RESCUE…

They won't rescue me from the sinking ship.

I won't crawl from under the earthquake's rubble.

But I could live with that.

What kills me is, I’ll never be

the one to tell the tale ...

Ìý

I CLOSE...

I close the book, put it away

on the shelf, no longer knowing

what it was all about, yet sensing

what I put into it

reading ...

Ìý

GAS READING

Like a leper I lie,

down with the flu, coughing

rasps me, suddenly someone

rings. Awash with sweat,

I drag myself from bed,

shuffle to the door,

open. On the threshold

is a man: He says:

Good evening, I'm here

to read the gas.

Choked

with coughing, I retreat

from the door, say:

Come inside.

The man asks for a chair,

stands on it, enquiringly

looks at the unit count,

marks the digits.

I gasp for breath,

the blast of coughing bows me, I flee

to the shower, I hack and whoop, I try

to clear the bronchia

of all that phlegm.

In the hall the man

gets down from the chair,

closes his well-thumbed book.

You'll have a surcharge,

he says, going.

I always have a surcharge, I say

between coughs, the gasman disappears

beyond the door and I inhale

deeply and before the searing pain

grips my chest tight,

I say the rest: No matter,

we're alive, that’s the main thing.

Ìý

77,297

In the Pinkas Synagogue

all the walls are full

of names. Each one

is mine.

Ìý

I WILL NOT STEP...

I will not step twice into that same river,

which doesn't mean that she

won't flow twice into me.

What have I learnt from that first deluge?

Something though. Today I know

the lifeboat's called

Titanic.

Ìý

DENTAL HAIKU

Where there'd been a tooth

the nerve remained, as if glad

still to be hurting.

Ìý

SPRING HAIKU

The possessive rain

with arms around your shoulders,

you went off with him.

Ìý

TIMELESS HAIKU

What's the time of day?

I'll reply and I won't tell

the truth (many now).

Ìý

THIRD AUTUMN HAIKU

Take that wind away

and turn down the rain. Or else

switch the damn thing off!Ìý

(Retina, 1999)

Ìý

Translated byÌýJohn Minahane