HOLY WEEK - Monday

by Yannick Dangre


HOLY WEEK - Monday

It is that week again in which men

rake up their heavenly father, miss their mothers,

feel how immortality late at night

starts pissing on their thoughts.


 

It is that week again in which humanity

folds its hands, chews daintily on silence

and on Sunday tosses in the sheets

of hope.


 

It will last seven days, the lack of God

and his tantrums, while I think only of her,

of the umpteenth beginning I shall weave

into her braids, the buttocks for which I

will risk my second youth.


 

It is that week again in which she

crackles in my bushes.

From Night and Navel (2017); translated by Paul Vincent