Always Together Everywhere

We turned ourselves into claws
and peeled the stars like bananas.
near the entrenchments
we – sharp and unseen –
dove into the sea.
We crept into the deep
and pecked pelagic fish that gleamed.


Let’s say, there are seven tulips.
How do you select a Count from them?
Would you use the counting technique
or would you choose by bud’s physique?
Would you take the blossom’s temperature,
or calculate provenance by
microbial density?
I, personally, would give the title out by
floral force:
whether the stem can bear, e.g., a gorilla perforce.

Not the Fire Shift

The chicks, now being fed on corals,
ran into the boulevard and began to eat everything:
and dead-end streets
and kiosks
and cafeterias
barber shops
coffee clubs
tea houses
music stores
video stores
movie theaters
and theater theaters.
So why have you gone nuts, my speckled ones, I ask.
Not nuts, not nuts at all, for today we’re starting a fire.

Waiting for the Gastroenterologist

“I have first-stage cirrhosis of the liver.”
“And for me, they just happened to find hep C.”
“I’m going for coffee, there’s a machine on the first floor.”
“Are your enzymes up?”
“It’s so hot – unbearable.”
“What are you pointing at? It’s to the right, here, lower down.”
A burly human, more like a bear, is also waiting
            at the gastroenterologist’s door.
In electric yellow and jade, two parrots 
            are printed on his 
They perch on top of gaudy words
replete with exclamation points:
Florida Forever!!!
It will take some time
but this patient will also be called in by name
to enter the doctor’s office.
And even then when he learns of the 
sorry state of his liver,
the parrots of summer will not make a peep –
with their talons tight they will continue to defend
            this state not all can reach.

Territorial Shift

From time to time I go to buy shampoo
at a specialty store full of beauty products
containing extracts from the Dead Sea.

The shop can be found in the territory of the former ghetto
where violinists, psychology students, linguists, and athletes
wrote their diaries
and carried their kids secreted in burlap potato sacks
on the other side of the wall
to achieve a life.
The Dead Sea extracts will climb out
of all those bottles, soaps, and face cream jars
to sweep over the whole store,
flood the territory,
to redress history and a failed name – Dead.
Crabs will begin to breed on the floor,
pearls will mature in sheltering shells
propelled by the snouts of pretty fish and their fry –
they’ll play foursquare, billiards, basketball, football…
lush plants will
rustle and grow verdant.
It will be a sea full of life, peace and joy.
There, where I once walked, bought, consumed –
one who invested time and money in healthy hair.

Selected poems from Gorilla’s Archives translated into English by Rimas Uzgiris

More info:
→  Gorilla’s Archives