I HAVE GOT TO STOP LOVING YOU SO I HAVE KILLED MY BLACK GOAT

I HAVE GOT TO STOP LOVING YOU 

SO I HAVE KILLED MY BLACK GOAT 

                                                                       Ai

His kidney floats in a bowl, 

a beige, flat fish, around whom parasites, slices of lemon, 

break through the surface of hot broth, then sink below, 

as I bend, face down in the steam, breathing in. 

I hear this will cure anything. 

When I am finished, I walk up to him 

He hangs from a short wooden post, 

tongue stuck out of his mouth, 

tasting the hay-flavored air. 

A bib of flies gather at his throat 

and further down, where he is open 

and bare of all his organs, 

I put my hand in, stroke him once, 

then taking it out, look at the sky. 

The stormclouds there break open 

and raindrops, yellow as black cats' eyes, come down 

each a tiny river, hateful and alone. 

Wishing I could get out of this alive, I hug myself. 

It is hard to remember if he suffered much. 

[from Vice: New & Selected Poems (1999) , Norton ] 

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이 시 때문에 시모임에서 더할 수 없이 기분을 망쳤었다. 술을 안 마실 수가 없더라.

내 영혼을 극으로 치닫게 하는 건 한 번으로 족하다. 다시는 반복해서는 안 된다. 다시는 안 된다.