Chère Earth, sincèrement le métro de Montréal

by Onu Oremun

Le fou joue le clou lâche dans le zoo :

He’s sitting there with his long legs crossed,

And his long arms resting on the top of a long cane,

And his long fingers balancing a long cigarette,

And then he takes a long drag,

And says with a long face to no one in particular,

“Do we even give a damn?

Does anybody even give a damn?

You’ll never find what you’re looking for unless you goddamn give a damn.”

He gives me a hard glare,

And then he pushes his long thumb nail hard between his teeth,

And as he twists it, he takes a hard bite,

And spits the bit of nail in the hard face of the coming train,

And it smacks the train hard,

“It was dead anyway.

We’re nothing but dying.

So come on! Give a damn!

Give a damn for all things! Alive or dead.

Just goddamn give a damn!”

He’s watching the businessmen go by,

And he’s watching the students, and the parents watching their kids,

And he’s watching all the people go by, and the trains, one after the other,

And then he’s watching me watch him and finally I say,

“And, what about you? Waiting here, for what?”

He still sits there with his long legs crossed,

And his long arms still rest on the top of a long cane,

And his long fingers still balance a long cigarette,

And he takes another long drag,

And he says with the same long face,

“That time. The time when people goddamn give a damn.”