Kapone miäs
Märkä pieru Saharassa
Turkkulaine kostolimerikki
Itsehän en ole koskaan
Itsehän en ole koskaan kärsinyt eurodiskosta,
tai olen tiktokista, tai ei kiinnosta
funikulaari, älkää sontiaiset
puhuko näistä asioista se on
turhaa ja loukkaavaa
kanssamatkustajia kohtaan
(minua, kimalaisia ja karjalaismummoja).
Kimalaisista saa puhua, ja kahvinporoista
lattialla ja huonoista tatuoinneista.
Ulos täältä. Kas näin, katua
käyn aina eteenpäin, kukkain
leyhy nenässäni, käytännössä
aivoissa asti, tuntuu jo silmissä
miksi tämä haju on niin
vahva? Vitun kevät.
Siellä työpaikka kurkottaa taas
tietoisuuteen, kuin lehmän turpa
räppänästä, tai ehkä enemmän
kuin joku menneen ajan sikalajike,
tai, emmätiedä. Joku symbolinen juttu.
Nonnih, täällä ollaan taas.
Asiakkaita. Kuolkoon saatana.
Kuolisinpa minä.
Å
Extract from ’The Secret of the Snails’
Extract from ’The Secrets of the Snails’
By Chris Gray
The slime trails go along the roads,
From this town centre square
People have searched for hidden codes
Theree are regulars who stop for hours and stare
As if waiting for a snail
Ans like the passengers,they go pale
These are the current hopers, trying to get wise….
To the Snail Man’s antics, dreaming about the prize
Looking like a fisherman, the snail man sets out
Early with his tackle, before anyone else is about
Raking the concrete, and sprinkling as if ground baiting
He gives his fingers a coating of lackuer
And ready for the lost, The Tracker….
Sits by the statue of The Collapsed Shopper, waiting
He waves to the first, empty Snails
A few peopleclock their two-quids in
Their thoughts can be read, You can’t win
Some go berserk, waking the dead with shouts and wails
Then join them. No ears, and eyes high in the air….
the creatures don’t see before they smother, would they really care?
It’s OK to watch on a nice sunny day
With a breeze, to blow the slime smell away
The Snail Man has a hunchback, some day it’s a shell, not a spine
He only takes cash, hearing each person in the line
The palms of his hands are blotched, each a sensing pad….
Trudging about in his wellies, he has an impossible sum to add
Four roads leave the square, there are six Snail Stops in all
He doesn’t wear a watch, look into the distance or listen for a call….
Just uses his hand, ear to the ground, tongue and nose
On hot days, he even uses his feet and toes
He trudges to random places through the slush,
Over the concrete
Sometimes dodging a suffocating crush,
By Snail Feet
After a prediction he could tell another one
But he won’t talk, get annoyed and he’ll say ”Walk!”
Ten fingers, each dipped into a ’slime spot’
And dabbed to the palms of the hands in turn
High wages, but a revolting way to earn
Have a guess…. his parents. I don’t know what
Then, he tastes each sample, some people look away
A few are ill, to other locals this is just part of the day
Tourists photograph him, a prediction needs six photos….
Dip, Dab, Taste, Smell, Ear to the Ground,
and in dep contemplation, he Knows
It could be nothing but an act,
Satisfied customers were what the Snails always lacked
But this does get serious,
Not simply masses, delirious
Local customers know what to do,
Club together, one for each Snail pays the toll
If it’s too late – taxis, or the dole
If it’s not, the rest skip the Snailer, and go to their queue
That’s our claim to round the bend
The snail Man, down our end
He could teach, this might be worth a real packet
I’d maybe do it. Drunk and wearing a mask
But the sensing pads…. (It’s pointless to ask)
Someone shouting my name?
”Chris! Time for your strait-jacket!”
Käyxä usein täällä
Yksi risa katiska
Yksi risa katiska
oli haaste Bobilta
yksi risa katiska
se runon aiheena
on melko vaativa
tai melkein hankala.
Jos vain hajonnut kalastusväline
tulee mieleesi,
niin mieti sitä ahventa joka pakeni
se ui ja se nauraa,
kai kalatkin nauraa vain;
yksi risa katiska sille elämän soi.
Jos oikein miettii ja tutkia jaksaa,
niin huomaa Bobin voittaneen:
on runoni pelkkää paskaa.