Chlorine Gardens (translation)

From Cuaderno de Belfast - Dublín

Walking along the trees

bridging opposing pavements

where they cling with their roots

and lips lose their moisture.

Night is overlooking

from the ivy gazebo

and the tarmac twists in the dream

like the staircase of gloom.

They bring shards of ice

those copper kisses in the sidewalks

but there are always words

and stoned writing in verse.

Memory and remembrance talk back

with their words of saliva and shudders

and the street shears my chest open

where the elm trees cast their shadow.