July 1, 2011 » Izdišući bicikle / Breathing Out Bicycles
Lives of a clipping, Unsorted |
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Tags: bicycles, blindfold, blue, chewing gum, cups, log, replica, time, wrong
33 minutes into the second half of 2011. I wrote this on the bus today, coming home from a client-friend's place.
Izdišući bicikle
Kao knjiga koja se sama otvorila na pogrešnoj strani,
kao glumac koji je skačući sa litice završio na bini,
ja sam, ja sam, ja sam, ja sam...
pogrešna.
Izdišem bicikle u širom otvoreni svemir,
sve dok on ne eksplodira u pogrešnoj brzini.
Deca ružičastih lica iz mesta nečuvenih
probadaju mi srce, da nikad ne bi bili u blizini.
I zato izdišem bicikle.
Kao san prekinut u kontakt programu nacionalne frekvencije,
kao nuklearna livada na kojoj niko ne može da se sakrije,
ja sam, ja sam, ja sam, ja sam...
...guma za žvakanje.
Sa povezom preko očiju jezdim na brvnu kroz vreme
dok se na dnu šoljice ne udavi, priglupo.
Ovo uzbrdo više nikad neće biti nizbrdo,
kad zabije svoju kopiju u ovu plavu supu.
A do tad, izdišem bicikle.
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Breathing Out Bicycles
Like a book that opened itself up on the wrong page,
Like an actor jumping off a cliff, ending on the stage,
I am, I am, I am, I am...
...Wrong.
Breathing out bicycles into wide open space
Until it explodes in the wrong gear.
Pink-faced children from an unheard-of place
Stab my heart and never come near.
So that is why I'm breathing out bicycles.
Like a dream aborted on a call-in TV show nationwide,
Like a nuclear meadow with nowhere to hide
I am, I am, I am, I am...
...chewing gum.
Riding blindfolded on a log across the time,
Until it dies from drowning in a cup.
This incline will never be a decline
When it sticks its replica in the blue soup.
Until then, I'm breathing out bicycles.






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