A Series of Solitudes

by Fiston Mwanza Mujila

Translated by Roland Glasser

Solitude 61
in my belly there writhes a river,
wretched and lazy, vast and dirty, nasty and bleak,
a river in (advanced) state of dysentery …

Solitude 71
jittery like a dog (?)
bored is the river all day long
whining without knowing why
whining since Babel, since old Noah and his flood
since the prophet Ezekiel, since Sister Abigail …
its snot describes an absurd longevity …

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