postcard from istanbul
there is a man
in town on bosporus
an he waits
for an answer
each day
with the first morning light
he comes to the same place
in the harbour
seats
smokes
sometimes he's having a bottle of beer
and watches the ships rollin'
just like in that song
he'll be watching until the sun goes down
with great interest he watches faces
that are coming all the way from anatolia
and the faces that are going back - home
and he wanders will he ever be recognised by some unknown face
some face from the past lives
not much to think about, actually
sea is whispering
boats are rolling
faces
cigarettes
and
the sun
almost perfect professional waiter
soon he'll be
but sometimes,
sometimes he remembers suljo
suljo who was captured, torched by serbians
putted on the srbobran to dig a ditch
and when he finally managed to escape
he couldn't get a green card
because he was a muslim
but his wife has gotten one
and his kids, too
because they where
catholics
so his wife wrote hundred of letters
even to the croatian president she wrote one
but, of course, nobody
answered
in the meantime
suljo
was just seating on the rented porch
smoking
in silencio, muted as muted telphone can be
for one year
than he came back in the race
started to work
bought a truck...
they all left for australia several years after...
yes, there is a man
on the dock of istanbul...
ni živ ni mrtav
probudiš se i shvatiš da te nema
svejedno
odlaziš u kupatilo i pereš ruke
pereš i kitu
nekako ti se čini da si sinoć drkao
ali ne možeš sa sigurnošću reći
jer te nema
doručkuješ prežganu juhu
to vjerojatno nikada ne jedeš za doručak
ali stvari su danas nešto drukčije
i ne možeš znati da li je to stvarno tvoj život
izlaziš na ulicu gdje nisi
odlaziš na posao gdje nisi
hodaš gradom gdje nisi
posjećuješ znana mjesta gdje nisi
pažljivo gledaš ljude, promatraš lica
nema te...
sada te već polako hvata panika
ulaziš u prvu birtiju i sukneš rakijicu
drugu, treću
opet krećeš u potragu
groblje
stojiš pred mramornom pločom sa svojim imenom
lorem Ipsum
1973 –
ali nisi tu
sada si na mjestima koja ni u snu ne bi posjetio
odaje Age Khana
tulum kod Rockefellerovih
domjenak kod Brigitte Bardot
no nema te ni za lijek...
razmišljaš kamo sada
ali u razmišljanju nema odgovora
napokon se prepuštaš nogama
one te nose kroz grad
kupuješ kartu
ulaziš u vlak
sjedaš u prazan kupe
zatvaraš oči
otvaraš oči
sjediš nasuprot sebe
namiguješ si
pružaš si limenku piva
otvaraš je
prdneš glasno
osjećaš strašan smrad u nosnicama
zadovoljan si
to si ti
nema sumnje
putuješ...
Post je objavljen 05.07.2009. u 08:33 sati.