This is the day

Almost everything I have
used to make me feel ashamed:
my job, my flat, my friends,
and my name
the bicycle I got from my brother
the presents I got from my mother

But now that my father is hanging on,
hanging on five tubes,
and now that his hoarse mouth
speaks of adieu,
my shame squats in a corner
now my shame squats in a corner

He died the way he drove his car
calm, controlled, correct might be the word
looking bravely at the road
jumping the lights he considered to be illogically absurd

Absurd, how everything I still wanted to say
has slipped away under the wheels of time :
the presence of my mother
the bicycle of my brother
my father in his suit . . .

And so I say adieu
with everything I have
and I’m looking at the road
calm and controlled?

(Based on a poem by Menno Wigman)

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