Neighbours by Mike Jenkins

Yesterday, the children made the street

into a stadium; their cat

a docile audience. As they cheered

a score it seemed there was a camera

in the sky to record their elation.

Men polished cars, like soldiers

getting ready for an inspection.

Women, of course, were banished

from daylight: the smells of roasts merging

like the car-wash channels joining.

Today, two horses trespass over boundaries

of content; barebacked, as if they’d just

thrown off the saddle of some film.

They hoof up lawns – brown patches like tea-stains.

A woman in an apron tries to sweep away

the stallion, his penis wagging back at her broom.

I swop smiles with an Indian woman, door to door.

These neighbours bring us out from our burrows –

the stampede of light watering our eyes.

 

By Mike Jenkins

from Empire of Smoke

‘Look, Outside My Window The Vine Is Spreading So Fast…’ by Afanasy Fet

Look, outside my window the vine is spreading so fast it

almost blocks out the light. Dark, picturesque green now

covers up half of the panes. And amidst the foliage a bunch of

seemingly carefully-placed grapes has started to turn

yellow… Hands off, sweetest! Why this rage for destruction?

If one plump little white hand should be seen to steal

into the yard for a bunch of grapes, the neighbours will waste no

time in declaring: she must have been in his room.

 

by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)

a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)

(1847)

translated by Robert Chandler