Poems by Ivan de Monbrison

ROLLING ON

jamais je n’aurais cru ta solitude complice et si vaine au fur et à mesure que
la rupture devient solide
on sort de chez soi les yeux limpides
la pluie remplit les poches de noyaux
on retourne sa peau comme un gant pour
exposer nos organes en plein jour
une automobile en passant arrache le paysage
il ne reste plus que les squelettes à l’abandon des hommes qui creusent les montagnes
pour en extraire du minerais
une station service chacun s’arrête dans sa voiture et remplit le réservoir
d’essence comme un petit robot
le long de l’autoroute les voitures se dépassent et dans la vitesse le monde n’existe plus
la ligne droite nous emprisonne
les yeux pleins d’ombre sont des silos à grains
où toute l’abondance de l’univers est vaine
quelque part un enfant meurt de faim
mais la voiture ne cesse jamais sa course et nous abandonne aux nuages
je n’ai plus peur dans le noir depuis que j’ai eu quinze ans
le silence atrophié ressemble à une épave
et les ongles qui le grattent en arrachent ma peau
  comme ta pensée

Never would I have thought your solitude so useless
just as the breaking-up
turns out to be solid
we leave home with crystal-clear eyes
the rain filling up our pockets with fruit pits
the skin turned inside out just as a glove
in order to expose
our organs in full daylight
passing through an automobile tears off the landscape
the only thing left are the skeletons of men
digging up the mountains
in order to get to the ore
a filling station where everyone stops by with his or her car
in order to fill up the gas tank like a small robot

I watch the zipping cars on the highway as their speed erases the world
the straight line locking us up
the eyes filled up with shadows are grain silos
where all the profusion of the universe is vain
somewhere a child is dying of hunger
but the car keeps on rolling and
leaves us with the clouds
I haven’t been afraid of the dark since I turned fifteen
atrophied silence is like a wreck
and nails scratching it are tearing off my skin
            as if it were your mind

UNDER THE POPLARS AS IT GETS DARK

ivan de monbrison

Ivan de Monbrison is a French poet, writer and artist who lives in Paris and Marseille. His poems and short stories have appeared in several literary magazines in France, Italy, Belgium, The UK, Canada, Australia, Switzerland and in the US. Five poetry chapbooks of his works have been published: L’ombre déchirée, Journal, La corde à nu, Ossuaire and Sur-Faces. His first poem-novel les Maldormants has been published in 2014, in France.

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