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LSD

Par | 2018-02-24T12:46:19+00:00 17 juin 2012|Catégories : Blog|

 

I exi­ted the flat, in the ele­va­tor I saw a girl in a red coat shi­ve­ring in the cor­ner, she had great circles under her eyes and swea­ted pro­fu­se­ly, she beg­ged me to help find her tall red plat­form shoes she lost somew­here, I was in a hur­ry, out front a red cab with red seats wai­ted for me, I got in and asked if smo­king was allo­wed, the dri­ver nod­ded, he was fre­sh­ly sha­ved, wore a red swea­ter and red pants, I thought I knew him from some­place, he pul­led his tail in through the open door and cur­led it under the seat, then slow­ly we rol­led, so that’s what the devil looks like, I thought, looks like a regu­lar guy, he grip­ped the wheel with his claws while he drove down the red vel­vet path the streets were laid with, I’m a cop, he said, I’ve been fol­lo­wing you for a long time and I know who you are, I knew him too, he was the thir­teenth man, but I didn’t say a word, he chan­ged the sub­ject and spoke with delight about the church swal­lo­wed by flames, I smo­ked and gazed at the holes in my palms, out­side buil­dings strea­med by, it see­med we’d pas­sed the same street seve­ral times alrea­dy, where are you taking me, I asked, the thir­teenth man fell silent, in the rear­view mir­ror I saw a grin in the cor­ner of his lips, the cab went fas­ter and fas­ter, stop, I yel­led, I have to get out right away, he didn’t lis­ten, I have to help the girl from the ele­va­tor, wake up the wri­ter asleep on the train tracks, prevent the scor­ned lover’s sui­cide, I yel­led without  cease, I have to save ano­ther ten souls or so and I’ll be right back, the crowd’s wai­ting for me in the square, they’re alrea­dy ligh­ting the hay and oak branches, I’ll be late, I will have now­here to lay my head…

 

[Translated from Serbian to English by Ana Božićević]

 

 LSD

 

Izašao sam iz sta­na, u lif­tu video devoj­ku u crve­nom kapu­tu kako se trese u uglu, ima­la je velike podočn­jake i pri­met­no se zno­ji­la, moli­la me je da joj pomo­gnem da pro­nađe svoje crvene cipele s viso­kim plat­for­ma­ma koje je negde izgu­bi­la, žurio sam, ispred zgrade me je čekao crve­ni tak­si sa crve­nim sediš­ti­ma, ušao sam u auto i pitao da li je doz­vol­je­no pušenje, vozač je klim­nuo gla­vom, bio je obri­jan, nosio je crve­ni džem­per i crvene pan­ta­lone, uči­ni­lo mi se da ga odne­kud poz­na­jem, kroz otvo­re­na vra­ta uvu­kao je rep u auto­mo­bil i savio ga ispod sediš­ta, onda smo laga­no kre­nu­li, tako dakle izgle­da đavo, pomis­lio sam, izgle­da kao običan čovek, kandža­ma je ste­zao volan dok je vozio po crve­noj pliša­noj sta­zi kojom su bile obložene ulice, ja sam poli­ca­jac, rekao je, pra­tim te odav­no i znam ko si ti, znao sam i ja ko je on, tri­naes­ti čovek, ali niš­ta nisam rekao, pro­me­nio je temu i s radošću počeo da govo­ri o crk­vi koju je pro­gu­ta­la vatra, pušio sam i gle­dao u rupe na svo­jim dla­no­vi­ma, napol­ju su pro­mi­cale zgrade, uči­ni­lo mi se da već neko­li­ko puta pro­la­zi­mo istom uli­com, gde me to voziš, upi­tao sam, tri­naes­ti čovek je zaću­tao, u retro­vi­zo­ru sam video kako se smeš­ka kra­jič­kom usa­na, tak­si je sve više ubr­za­vao, zaus­ta­vi, vikao sam, moram odmah da izađem, moram da pomo­gnem devo­j­ci iz lif­ta, da pro­bu­dim pis­ca zas­pa­log na šina­ma, da sprečim samou­bist­vo ostavl­je­nog lju­bav­ni­ka, vikao sam bez pres­tan­ka, moram da spa­sim još dese­tak duša i brzo se vra­tim, gomi­la me čeka na trgu, već pale seno i hras­tove grane, zakas­niću, neću ima­ti gde da položim gla­vu…

 

[Stripping, 2004]