before the tread of the right tire of ours red
renault mégane (we move like cagey tigers) sculpted
refined patternette on its back, cat appeared
from nowhere. (we slip through the streets), what interval it is:
dead of the cat and pop music? (throw all the songs we know)
now cat defends from rain the thirty square
centimeters of uneven concrete (we bite and scratch
and scream all night) somewhere under dark, baritone-like
Włocławek, which on the map looks to the point of illusion like
refined patternette on the back of the cat, sculpted
by the tread of the right tire of ours red renault mégane
dear with the material, since impulse didn’t come,
will you adjourn? Maybe you’ll grab the hook of interrogation point
and you’ll stare how your machinations contribute
to production of empty, foundry box,
which you will later painstakinglyknock around
without losing hope, that something will eventually tickle it from within.
you imagine all impulses are brought in the one room
that looks like neglected two square meters of retired woman,
but you know, that no impulse comes from the place:
impulses rise in infinitely small spaces between the places,
it is impossible then to state,
if impulse didn’t rise
or it didn’t arrive.
you lie down and with unashamed satisfaction you think about impulse
who got lost and served something more important.
soprano of light cripples our conjuctivas
ornette coleman reflects from the walls
and resonates in our conscious. in apartment
we have shit all over like in poems before editing;
it’s some sort of a day, it appears to be noon,
allegedly there are some us.
ornette coleman cripples our conscious,
soprano of light reflects from the walls
and resonates in our conjuctivas
poems translated by Seweryn Górczak
fot. by Michał Dolny
Dawid Kujawa – born in 1989, literary critic and poet, author of “Wideopoezja. Szkice” (Videopoetry. Sketches), his texts were published in literary magazines and anthologies. Right now he works on his debut poetry book and dissertation on subject of resurgent avant-guarde tendencies in polish poetry post 2000. He lives in Katowice.