West Side Story

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West Side Story

red.
deep red.
I am so red
I cannot tell what is red and what is not.
I am in love.
let this be understood
for the moment at least.
I do not want to describe it
I cannot
I smoke a cigarette.
I drink a glass of something or other.
something penetrates me at this point.
all the wayward fish in the pool
settle into a red geometrical pattern.
I keep thinking I am a big aquarium.
I am a big red aquarium.
memorial creatures swim in my body.
I am cracking.
from my crevices larva spurts.
standing before a mirror
I walk towards my magma
there await me
red cartoon characters.
I am filled with joy.
my glances, also, have a film clip
from where I come people are not abandoned.

red.
deep red.
reluctantly I cuddle up to a story.
perhaps I am a red snake.
a snake with a scorpion asleep on its forked tongue.
a snake protected by the night.
one that scares pretty children.
gets them accustomed to zapping.
red bodies extending towards red channels.
I see red spots of lust.
red love songs.
in red barrel organs
they are playing love songs.
I am a red gangster.
I carry red weapons.
I smoke a cigarette.
something penetrates me at this point.
its smells a bit like marijuana.
it gives out a bit of radiation.
radiation hazard on the walkman:
red nonsense anniversaries are celebrated.
I fall on the scrabble board.
I am a red pop star.
red.
deep red.
I am so red.
I cannot tell what is red and what is not.

Translated by Suat Karantay