LET'S DIVORCE TURKEY

(Includes pilferage from Allen Ginsberg and k. Iskender)

Let's divorce Turkey, before our relation becomes fucked up Let my poems stay with me and the custody of my broken fads with you As you left me in so much hunger and homelessnes, stick your “tiny ships” up your ass You have never made us play “box” games full of wads of money We, as you know, whom you blew up with a rocket at 14 years old in Lice Whom you raked with 13 bullets at 12 years old, who are fighting for bread by hitting the pavements at the the crack of dawn, the kids whom are shot while going to buy bread, the ones swelling up the fucked punches of your chunky ones I mean, as you don't give a fuck about us, your order sir, we kick the bucket again in mines, building sites, factories Fuck it, what kind of a value we already have in front of profit margin, Damn we, who make love without insurance and live the happiness unrecorded the ones producing you new slaves by wrinkling their overshot youth to the future the ones whom the pimps with necktie don't deign to recognize, the women looking after their children by collecting cardboard from dumps, the sales girls attaching gloom to their dowries by instalments, the kids you accumulate to the suicide and arabesque music by beating and swearing a blue streak, the ones trying to delay the hunger of their huge families by a poky pitch on their neck, “We, the stepchildren of Allah, the ones never backed up...” “We, the ones with ripped out buttons, the ones without beach chairs, the ones without wine” I am openning your box Turkey, you don't have any more chance, Here is the bullshit, good appetite to you, Bury me inside a poem knitted with grief, Cross my heart, Otherwise I will divorce you!

SERKAN ENGIN