Famine Fugue

Patrick Cotter
(An adaptation of Paul Celan)

Black earth of daybreak we eat you at sundown.
we eat you at noon in the morning we eat you at night
we eat and we eat you
we eat a grave in the dustbeds there one lies all dried
a man lives in a whitehouse he slithers with the rattlers he types
he types when dusk falls on califomia your peroxide hair nancy baby
he types it and steps out of doors he swings in a helicopter up to the stars
he swings his multinationals out
he whistles his black boys out in the dust and has them scrape for a grave
he commands them boogie on down brother
Black earth of daybreak we eat you at night
we eat you in the morning at noon we eat you at night
we eat you and we eat you
a man lives in a whitehouse he slithers with the rattlers he types
he types when dusk falls on california your peroxide hair nancy baby
your ashen hair nkomo buddy we eat a grave in the dustbeds there one
lies all dried
he calls out scrape deeper into the dust you lot we others let's boogie
on down
Black earth of daybreak we eat you at sundown
we eat you at noon in the morning we eat you at sundown
we eat you and eat you
a man lives in a whitehouse your peroxide hair nancy baby
your ashen hair nkomo buddy he slithers with the rattlers
he calls out so sweetly play death death is a master from the
developed economies
he calls out more darkly now to your bother then as dust
you will settle into the ground
then a grave you will have scraped there one lies all dried
Black earth of daybreak we eat you at night
we eat you at noon death is a master from the developed economies
we eat you at sundown and in the morning we eat you and we eat you
death is a master from the developed economies his eyes are cool
he strikes you with leaden promises his aim is true
a man lives in a whitehouse your peroxide hair nancy baby
he sets his multinationals on us he grants us a grave in the dust
hie slithers among the rattlers and daydreams death is a master
from his developed economny
your peroxide hair nancy baby your ashen hair nkomo buddy
Page 47, Poetry Ireland Review Issue 17