NO. 39

Every poem is a shoe,
and every other shoe is a poem.

There are poems that take you farther than a shoe.
There are poems that patter and scatter,
poems that hurt your toe,
and in general,
be careful wearing poems not designed for you.

There are summer haikus,
winter ballads
and autumn elegies washed away by the first rain.

Youngsters put on poems of grown-ups,
confusing left with right,
which makes them look even more childish.
Grown-ups don’t care to tie their laces.

New poems squeak,
old poems remain silent.

There is a poem for escape,
a poem that leads you home,
a poem you should take off behind the door
in order to slip on a totally different one-
flat, fluffy, rhythmical.

To check a poem, you don’t need to burn its leather.
Wear it, stand on a corner and whisper: “I am lost.”

_Translated by Tatev Chakhian
unIDentical, 2016