The Giraffe and Bus Derby
So we spend all our time circling a shoe-print,
galloping along on a giraffe’s back,
crashing into our own circumstances
and brandishing swords that might be radio antennae
or second-hand golf clubs.
Sometimes we sleep long owl nights
atop rocks that butt into the game,
opening the doors of our Swiss chalet to piss in the lake
and feed the giraffe as a reward for its benevolence.
Other times we prefer to retire without sleeping
and peruse some atlas, animal volume or book of poems,
looking a great deal like the clown in the Easter parade.
To break from routine you stand on your head
and look up the hardest word in the dictionary,
sticking your legs out the tallest building’s top-floor window
and shouting it out
(all the while securing the saddle on your giraffe
in case people finally understand you
and you have to fly off to strange lands where you’re not known).
If you are prevented from doing this,
you simply draw your face in the middle of the road
and make the cars swerve by brandishing a toy pistol.
But
should you emerge victorious this way
you will continue circling the shoe-print
or will have to set off on a trip.
So it is that the saddest thing in the world is having no name
to scribble on the back seat of the bus you’re traveling on.
“The Giraffe and Bus Derby” from Reasons for Writing Poetry
Eduardo Chirinos, translated by G.J. Racz
Paperback / softback (01-Feb-11)
Demy Octavo 184pp
ISBN: 9781844715213
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Copyright © Eduardo Chirinos & G.J. Racz, 2011
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by permission of Salt Publishing.
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