Gytis Norvilas - A MONOLOGUE FROM THE BOTTOM OF A BARREL: GREAT PRIVATIZATIONS

the church privatized faith, god, even his jaw,
wounds and miracles.
Themis privatized truth, though she owned only justice.
anarchists privatized rioting, freedom and everything against which they marched –
their fat, their hypocrisies smell suspiciously.
zen buddhists privatized emptiness with all its salutary
void, felicity, beggary.
Parulskis privatized death, the dead –
I have no one to say hello to in the morning or to lift a beer with.
Kajokas privatized butterflies, their dreams and all their trifles –
as though they move the world.
Marčėnas – angels and almost all banalities.
Marcinkevičus and gang privatized our homeland’s phantom, language,
took away the right to even open one’s mouth, love our native land,
thinking they knew best, knew how to do it.
stupid shitheads! – there’s no other name for them.
literary hacks privatized megaphones,
and during the sortie took the train’s train with ink.
in it they drowned the machinist, felt deeply sorry.

Hrabal privatized the waste paper press, on which he printed books –
now he would come in handy as never before.
Miłosz privatized Ulra’s land, through which my childhood carried me in Krekenava
near the Nevėžis. now I am homeless.
Geda privatized everything, whatever remained, even now finds unknown
territories, fences them with mammoth bones and laughs:
– why are your ears so droopy? it looks as if you’re not very bright...
also a good one ... not long ago we talked in a dream under a bridge,
drank happily kneeling alongside the Lethe’s currents.
Michaux with all his breed of idiots privatized all intoxicants,
dreams, the right to suicide,
that’s why I’m more alive than ever now, feel that everything is moving to the good,
to death, to decomposition’s light. but am I not too young?

and what’s left for us?
and what did you leave me and my friends?
and that ant. most important – that ant, which crawls
upside down on the barrel’s lid?
i watch it sitting on the bottom – i already have something to resist.
the ant, whose farting is the most beautiful music in the world for me.

i sit, listen while accompanying with the grinding my teeth, and wait
until from the thickets of heaven will crawl a deliciously laughing
drunken large god
and will implement a cosmic nationalization