AZBEST

Poem By Maarja Kangro

Ko si bila otrok, praviš?
Skočila si
na eternit in se je zlomil?
Modre superge, beli krizotil.
Videla sem povečavo
10 mikrometrskega vlakna,
ki je vstopilo v dihala.
Košček eternita
naj bi bil prekajena riba?
Si ugriznila vanjo
kot v izvirni greh,
kot v drevo spoznanja dobrega in zlega?
Pravzaprav ničesar ne čutiš,
prav malo razumeš,
10µm, delavci v umazanih oblekah,
agonija nevedne pameti,
20 ali 40 let, pljučne mrene, mezoteliom,
brazgotine na pljučih.
Ja, zdi se, kot bi vsako leto cvetel španski bezeg,
včasih pa tudi velika strast.
Vlakno se spušča zelo počasi
in neopazno kot prihodnost:
azbest je majhna alegorija.
Oh, ne bodi zdaj jezna!
Glej, to je moje novo najljubše vino.
Kupila ga bom. Privoščiva si kozarček nocoj.

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