JOYCE MANSOUR ~

 

Beneath the Central Tower

            for Matta

Hands wandered over the keys

And strange words issued from Her

Floated on the surfaces of the stream

I heard the dialect of undressing sexes

Hands wrote on the valves

Twenty-four seven

And assassinations would have to follow

In the same bluish twilight where the steel serpents hiss

Where seagulls cry and mature women flourish

With inflamed pistils and junky wounds

I was a little intimidated

It would have been so luxurious

To have the power to piss in the street

_________________

In the Glittering Maw

Selected Poems

Joyce Mansour

translated by C. Francis Fisher

World Poetry 2024