[Pitbull]

Wazzause, dude?

Now wazza deal? the tall grandfather's clock did ask
with a mischievous nonblink of his cyclopus eye,
when seeing me again to try
reading his ever cycling stanza.
You still refuse to learn, don't you,
that's all the same singsong again and yet
to cheat you into your belief
that time would spiral on, perhaps,
instead of always chasing after its own tail?
Do me a favor and attempt a smile, poor sod,
it's ages since I try to make you get my pun.

Accomodate him I then tried,
but found that my mouth corners
were too heavily weighed down
by
...
Sorry, no way to see down there.

I reached to feel,
but my hands were too busy
still lower down

much lower down

the lowest down

Them both.

The mirror, then, I searched, with a half-heart,
to try and see the ponderous burdens
- I was just curious, nothing more -
but pearly-cloudy was her face like one day old milk.
Apologies, pray thee, she excused herself,
my beauty mask I'm wearing,
thanks honey
for all this milk and honey
and
by the way
could you cream-on my mug more often?
Your semen does work better than any other balm
for me.
Oh, yes, she added in a husky breath,
yes here it comes,
it's cumming, cumming, cummmmminggggggg

Her vanity I served
but my smile's leadening stayed hidden.
Screw, no deal
yet.

To grin, you want, what for?
inquired then an earthworm passing by.
Follow my lead, old chap,
no mouth to laugh or cry,
no eye to see or weep,
no hands to build or wank,
it's just a merry crawl that's all about.

And since my feet seemed busy to rehearse
the good ole play of stool climbing
beneath the hook
- still empty, but I hope
that not for long -
I settled for the crawling,
to my spine's deeply felt sigh that
he got a short reprieve

he got a long reprieve

make it eternal

it's much safer

Whatuse to learn what's holding down my smile?
Whatuse Chronos to please for all his inept humor?
Whatuse to bring the spermy offering?
Whatuse to try and see a doughy death-mask maggots sprouting?
And what's the use to kick the stool and line the rope
that doesn't but tie straight together flight and ceiling,
the only sort of flight ever allowed
to vermin?

Keep to the ground, you dummy, don't attempt,
forget all answers, and the way might open
to undies under.

Pitbull (Mihnea Columbeanu)
2005, May 16, 23:00-23:59
Bucharest, Romania

* * *

Cacechestie, bä?

Acuma care-i treaba? a-ntrebat pendulu
smecher neclipind din ochiu-i de ciclop,
când m-a väzut cä-ncercam iar
sä-i înteleg strofa la nesfârsit rotitä.
Tot nu vrei sä te-nveti, asa-i,
cä-i doar acelasi cântecel, mereu si iar
cu presu sä te ducä spre a crede
cä timpu merge în spiralä, poate,
în loc sä-ti fugäreascä-ntruna coada?
Fä-mi o favoare si mäcar încearcä sä zâmbesti, bädie proastä,
i-o vesnicie de când caut sä-ti explic poanta.

Sä-i fac hatâru-atunci am încercat,
da constatai c-a gurii mele colturi
erau prea greu tinute-n frâu
de
...
Scuzati, n-am cum sä väd pânä acolo jos.

Am vrut sä pipäi,
da-mi erau mâinile prea ocupate
si mai jos

mult mai jos

cel mai jos

Ambele douä.

Oglinda-am cäutat-o atunci, cam färä chef,
sä-ncerc sä väd greoaiele poveri
- eram numai curios, nimic mai mult -
da tulbure perlatä-i era fata ca laptele cel vechi de-o zi.
Mä ierti, rogu-te, s-a scuzat,
e masca mea cosmeticä
mersi, dulceatä
pentru atâtia lapti si miere
si
apropo
n-ai vrea sä-mi dai mai des din smacu täu?
Mai bunä ti-e sämânta decât orice balsam
pentru mine.
O, da, adäugat-a într-o senzualä soaptä,
da uite e pe vine,
îti vine 'mi vinneee vinnnnneeeeeee

I-am mângâiat dar lustrul
dar ale zâmbetului meu ghiulele ascunse au rämas.
Mäciuci, fäcut-am nici o brânzä
încä.

Sä te hlizesti, ai vrea, la ce, mä rog?
Interesatu-s-a trecând o râmä.
Ci ia-te dupä mine, bä bätrâne,
n-am gurä sä mä râd sau sä mä plâng,
n-am ochi sä väz si nici sä läcrimäz,
n-am mâini ca sä durez sau ca s-o frec,
târâsu într-o veselie, asta-i tot.

Si cum aveam cracii prea ocupati sä tot repete
drägutu joc de-a hopa sus pe taburet
aicea sub cârlig
- încä e gol, da sper
cä n-o mai tine mult asa -
M-am multumit cu târâiala
de cu adâncä satisfactie-mi oftä sira
c-o mai scuteam nitel

cä o scuteam mai multicel

mai bine eternel

cä-i mult mai sigurel

Cace chestie vreau sä aflu ce-mi tine zâmbetul legat?
Cace chestie sä-l încânt pe Cronos pentru-ale lui tâmpite bancuri?
Cace chestie sä aduc spermoasele ofrande?
Cace chestie cerc sä väd masca mortuarä cocä doldora de viermi?
Si ca ce chestie sä dau cu sutu-n scaun funia sä întind
cä leagä strâns doar zboru de tavan,
singuru soi de zbor ce-l are voie de zburat
scursoarea?

Stai la pämânt, moluscä, nu-ncerca,
uitä de-orice räspunsuri, si poate s-o deschide drum
de supt dedesupt.

Pitbull (Mihnea Columbeanu)
17 mai 2005, 00:00-00:28
Bucuresti, România