tu it kā brauc uz lidostu man pakaļ
bet patiesībā sēdies taksī un brauc tikai atpakaļ
dūmi šoferim pīpējot sitas pret stiklu kā akvārijā
balss netrāpa telefonā trāpa tajā parkinga kartē
it kā uz lidostu
bet atpakaļ (amerika pārvēršas salā) savelkas dūrē
(gaisa atsvaidzinātājs cauri prērijai šūpojas fūrē)
pirksti ar ogli kāds zīmē to putnu no dzejoļa g. a. spirti nožūst
(arumi saritinās)
un izlīst tuša tev klēpī
neviens nekad nedzied par vīrieša klēpi
vēl vairāk bail vēl vairāk noslēpums
bet tādas domas var izdomāt gaisā
kilometri
vertikāli
starp mums
supposedly you’re coming to the airport to get me
but in reality you get in a taxi and are going back
driver’s cigarette smoke beats against the glass like in a fish tank
your voice does not hit the phone instead hits that parking slip
as if to the airport
but back (america becomes an island) making a fist
(truck’s air freshener swings through the prairie mist)
coal smeared fingers someone drawing that bird from the poem g. a. alcools dry (fields rolling up)
and indian ink pours out all over your lap
no one ever sings about a man’s lap
still more frightening still more secret
but such thoughts can be thought through in the air
kilometers
vertical
between us
Translated from the Latvian by Ieva Lešinska
Published in: Six Latvian Poets. UK: Arc Publications, 2011