The Prose of Life

by Marina Eskina
translated by Ian Ross Singleton

The Prose of Life
Proza `izni

As for the prose of life, just let it be,
whether and what for it’s got poetry,
and what string, other than the one you pluck,
resonates with the wail of ambulance or fire truck . . .
If you wish, whip up odes to pans, stanzas to the salad,
all the same, they’re steamy for a ballad,
that refracts the whole wide world, like a prism,
until it’s got the ragtag sweep of truism,
idle and ruinous.  Undercover,
the defense and prosecution cotton to each other.
Raking up leaves, slitting your wrists,
you can be inspired, but you’d rather be obvious.
The prose of life doesn’t need to write a sonnet
to hold its own, get in some licks, tack an end on it.

Published in Cardinal Points, (Fall 2016)