MONOLOGUE FROM A CANINE PRETEXT

The body of the deceased was found in a ditch

In the middle of a yard hung on

a hook and they buried him beyond the garden.

Fido’s [1] hung himself—suicide dog!

Fido’s soul’ll be hounded from heaven.

They’ll tell him: “You didn’t croak the way you should have!”

Then they’ll lift him up by the tail

and . . .

Fido’s hung himself on his chain at night.

The real nightly R movie [2]—rats viewers

sighing, wooing,

curling up, and lovemaking!

Fido’s hung himself! Do you hear?—you!

Are you reading Leaves of Grass?

Márquez? Borges? Hesse? The I Ching? Ah?

Fido’s hung himself! That’s the change!

You’re called a poet

and he’s—a dog.

A poem gnaws at you,

a chain—at him.

Someday you’ll be a pro poetaster,

But Fido chose not meat, but the spirit!

How much can you bark at the moon?

How long can you wait for your paycheck?

How much can you scrape your backsides?

Forever?

Till death!

What a schizophrenic profession—

to tend to chickens and goats

and send them off to be butchered?

The Constellation of the Dog

pierces through the earth and heavens!

Notes

[1] “Dzul′bars” in the original—a typical name for a Ukrainian dog. This particular canine poem has a real event as its basis. Viktor Neborak’s dog Dzul′bars strangled himself on his chain. (Translator’s note)

[2] “Notsne” is in Polish in the original and refers to the practice in Soviet times of going to a friend’s house in Western Ukraine, someone who had a strong antenna and could receive signals from Polish TV to watch films from the West—usually with a heavy dose of eroticism or horror. (Translator’s note)

Translated by Michael M. Naydan