WE WON'T ROT


We try to be happy
because we've planted a tree
but we know that every day
in many ways
we're getting warmer and wetter.

In the train we suck
each other's lips
with graffiti in our eyes.
We scratch ourselves
to be sure we're valid.

At the beach we sunglass and sunblock
and bury our heads in our walkmans.
We stay on the sunless side
of our large umbrella
sucking on our chapped lips.

We're studded with false teeth
but see nothing to smile at.
We buy some junk, called food,
at the kiosk, trying to ignore
the numbers of the preservatives.

We wonder if the food is irradiated.
Will it brighten our teeth
and help us glow in the disco?
We console ourselves by saying:
When they bury us we won't rot.


Myron Lysenko, from I'm Ukrainian, Mate.
(c)2002