Fata cu Șosete de Diamant

[...]fata cu şosete de diamant.
ea are părul de diamant
şi faţa de diamant
şi fustă verde de brocart.
în pulpa de sticlă a acestei fetiţe
se vede săpat un mecanism cu rotiţe
şi un piston de argint.
rotiţele se rotesc
pistonul pompează
şi adolescenta înaintează
târându-şi părul de diamant pe Calea Moşilor.[...]

(Mircea Cărtărescu)

What Do Women Want?

I want a red dress. 
I want it flimsy and cheap, 
I want it too tight, I want to wear it 
until someone tears it off me. 
I want it sleeveless and backless, 
this dress, so no one has to guess 
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store 
with all those keys glittering in the window, 
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old 
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers 
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, 
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders. 
I want to walk like I'm the only 
woman on earth and I can have my pick. 
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm 
your worst fears about me, 
to show you how little I care about you 
or anything except what 
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment 
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body 
to carry me into this world, through 
the birth-cries and the love-cries too, 
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin, 
it'll be the goddamned 
dress they bury me in.
(Kim Addonizio) 

Lines, Women

Exit Through Mirror

Without hours, how cheer? Old devotions
now point to

sorrow: cap’s cracked and leaking.

Door doesn’t open: exit through mirror.


the plumbing

(Julie Carr)