Like Monte Carlo

by Željka Horvat Čeč

Like Monte Carlo

Where will we run

when we lower our hands and tears from the house

whose steps will we count

as entrances in the yards on the way to the centre


without children we gaze desolately at the plain of grass

we say we'll stop in a bordello

and watch without shame


once we lowered our eyes in silence

and laughed at neon lights

shaped like a naked woman


on the road across the bridge houses are rare

and old age falls off them through holes and plaster

she goes gray and speaks into a wine glass


I'm deaf and I'm afraid to hear

because her face is painted with heavy words

and cheap make-up