you know how my grandma was
she looked after children in Herceg Novi
he swung a trowel
at walls around the neighbourhood
then she got married
the winters were long
the firewood was used up
she lit a fire
he smashed weaving shuttles against her head
wherever I go
I say I am not from there
I belong to the meadow
where the neighbours long ago
buried a rotten egg on our side
of the boundary line,
but not to the people who settled it
in the first years of school I used to dream
that they were coming after me to slaughter me.
in the upper grade I dreamed of a four in maths
at university I never raised a revolt
at night I hear the glaciers melting in the north
landslides burying America
serves them right!
say the people from my village
my breasts are still
as my maths grade once was
the Petrović girl, a thin two!
the teacher used to say when handing out the maths tests
they still ask me about you, it hurts
it’s much more painful
than when they asked me at school
which letter it is that I can’t pronounce
oh you motherfuckers
then go and say yourselves what you can’t say, I thought
you will be rich
that’s the way you’ve always acted
but I didn’t tell you
I’ve always dreamt that you’d walk towards me
where even the bourgeois go empty-handed
I have always wished
you to come into my arms
