Mary Madelaine

(when) I go to bed
with this word or that word
(there are endless reasons
to give (up))
they pay me various rates
– it always pays

(and it’s not like that)
no, honestly
in the geometric triangle of legs
with a fountain in the middle

No, I

walk with a (hung) sign
mountains and peaks (of dreams)
for sale(s)
I slide my tongue
over flat, smooth
hopelessness

for a little (under) licking
(with a flower headress)
stroking your ego with a feather
I climb to the tip of the heaps
of yellow things

I level them flat
not like Mary Magdalen
but once Mary, once Madeleine

From Les abattoirs de Bruxelles, Księgarnia Akademicka, Kraków 2008

 Translation from Polish by Sarah Luczaj

Poetry Award XVI Noworudzkie Spotkania z Poezją 2006 (Poland)