Thursday Poem

we start to talk about
primary school essays
for the eighth of March
I always wrote about my mother
and her calloused hands
it was the wrong description
but, I thought you have to write in that style

in my class, she said
there was a motherless boy
so he could write
about whomever he wanted
his aunt, his granny, his . . .

the teacher told him so
she was tactful
even so: he was uncomfortable
he was looking around
unfocused

did he ever write about his mother, I ask
no, she said

I can see him
sitting in his class
and thinking that others are really writing about their mothers

like a lover, daydreaming about those words

and once I thought a poem must be just like that
.
.

nekako dolazimo na temu
školskih sastava
uvijek sam za osmi mart
pisao o tome kako moja majka
ima žuljevite ruke
što je bio potpuno kriv opis
no, činilo se da se ne može drukčije

u njenom razredu, kaže
jedan dečko nije imao mamu
pa je mogao pisati
o kome god želi
o teti, o baki, o . . .

nastavnica mu je tako rekla
bila je pažljiva
ali svejedno: bilo mu je neugodno
gledao je okolo
nefokusirano

je li ikad pisao o mami, pitam
ne, reče

zamišljam ga
sjedi u klupi
i misli da drugi stvarno pišu o svojim mamama

kao netko zaljubljen, sanjari o tim riječima

tako sam nekad zamišljao pjesmu
.