Biography (translated by Wally Keeler)

In the misery-chasm of the mind, a snowmist blossom

              is a charity-blessing.

I see my future; obese church-beggar,

knotted hair fallen into blind courtyards.

Tampons, dressings bathe bloody scalpels,

a dog suckles two white lambs;

a shrill reality in the dream, a nameless

open wound is their existence.

Far fire. Troops of ghosts are forever

flowing slowly like a convoy of vans

carrying meat in the wee hours.

The dew in my palm mirrors a face.

My aunt, porcelain-pale, lies lightly

on the iron bed in the alms-hospital, eskimo

soapstone-sculpture, translucid from bed-sores;

I pick up your pea-memories dropped along the path,

I learn your tattooed camp-number. The carrion-

              consuming wind howls —

My dead dog’s mouth is shut. Human and beast,

they are relatives in the agony. Barb-wired pines;

terrible spring makes the sky tremble.

On unbreakable roofs, the snow is a feast.