i suffer each time the driver
runs an animal into the asphalt. forwards,
the animal struggling towards
astral silence. and us further still.
the city does not stop for that
the engine does not stop for that
i suffer when the mother holds her child
’s hand and with the other slaps him convulsively
across the face. from here, you all know.
and because my memory is so clear
i suffer the same when we’re together.
every dram of cynicism, every
dram of violence ancient and contemporary
vortex together,
serene.
with friends at the table, telling me
always loaded with a camera they catch
everything live. hair rising from the asphalt,
cars overtaking, against the traffic,
over you.
it happened head-on, between seconds.
when they are speaking i suffer,
heat rises slowly. we laugh at a joke
out-of-service. that’s all for today.
in the road dystopia, calligraphy
on the skin
in the day’s passing sleepiness
how precisely does sleep come
in these precisely painted spaces. feeble light rising
beyond
the ten-story block in the middle of the neighbourhood. that danger
disappears. until tomorrow morning, the neighbours know.
i suffer when a first responder
is forced to find some trace of lifeto do
something. what can be done today.
Teona Farmatu (b. 1999) is an author of poetry, literary reviews, and plays. She is currently the editor-in-chief of Babeș-Bolyai University’s Echinox, and is enrolled in her country’s leading PhD programme in Comparative Literature.