Ilya Kaminsky

I saw the blue canary of our country
Pick breadcrumbs from each citizen’s eyes—
running up Vasenka street, our clothes in a pillowcase—
I looked for a man who looks
exactly like me – so I could give him my Sonya, my name, my shirt—

I run from a bus burst like an intestine in the sun, I saw—
Madame Gornik paint icons sold at morning, saw
Veronina, mother of two boys
stole tomato sandwiches from two soldiers
as the soldiers tore Pasha’s wife from her bed like a door off the bus—

It has began: they climbed the trolleys
at the thief market, breaking all
their moments in half. And Petrovich yelled I am so fucking beautiful I cannot stand it.
And the army officers
in clanging trolleys aimed at neighbors’ faces, in their ears,
and the army officer yelled: Boys! Girls!
Take your partner two steps! Shoot.

It has began: I saw how the blue canary of my country
picked breadcrumbs from each citizen’s ears—
picked breadcrumbs from each citizen’s eyes—
The snow left the earth and fell straight up as it should—
To have a country, so important—
to run into walls, into streetlights, into loved ones, as one should—
Watch their legs as they run and fall—
I have seen the blue canary of my country—
Watch their legs as they run and fall.