Risk

by Yury Milorava
translated by Anna Halberstadt

Risk,
intuition telling you to get loose
from your limitations,
your inner voice, touching a shadow,
playing with prayer beads, this time whispers:
“don’t tease theimitation eagle owl,
a scarecrow to scare birds on the open metro platform,
find a way
to entertain yourself differently.
Same rule applies to big dolls as well.”

But the dolls, robots and stuffed birds demand gratitude.  They are
never satisfied.
The demanding tribe, which belonged to the generation of
children’s thank you-s
never had enough.

My communist thank you to Comrade Stalin and to Comrade Daddy
for their sweet severity, for theirfulfilled civilian and parental duties,
and
for all of my horrific childhood!

My communist thank you to Comrade Stalin and Comrade Mommy
for the heroically and happily executed civilian and parental,
duties,
and for the complete nightmare of my childhood!

Children’s heels are always in motion.  And a second earlier, in the sun.
But…
they sparkle in the grass,
to be followed by a horrendous scream.
Bent over heavenly windowsills, children
are being targeted, pounded by heavy voices
of parents, focused on them,
here a bunch of parents have gathered on a large lawn
for a Sunday picnic
They order, limit, rule, demand something they have know idea about
and scream gibberish, the tone of their voices out of control,
insulting, more and more scandalous.
Second, third, windowsills.

Higher up, finally, there are some new empty windowsills and
there is freedom,
children run around and jump in the space, closer to clouds,
children’s heels moving.  Heels.
You can see heels.
But now it’s complicated, difficult, only
among sun rays.  Only through a lens, through binoculars.
or through a telescopic aim.