Now and Then by Marina Zrnic©

I

I am a thin branch, leaves on my head,

curls and eyes all over my baby face.

We meet in the crowd.

We drink a cherry liqueur,

sweet and thick as the afternoon sun.

On the outskirts of the city

trees no longer live.

Just a railway track passes,

as old as time itself,

a few poisonous wild berries.

Dogs bark and run after you

when you fly past them on your bicycle.

Gypsies sit in front of their houses,

they drink strong coffees,

they natter on for hours.

All women paint nails with the same nail varnish.

Time does not flow in this part of the world.

You come and you go,

you go where the chicken are,

you steal cigarettes and smoke them at night

with crickets all around.

You sleep in somebody else's house,

you wake up with their parents.

You breakfast with them.

They are tired, they are grey

but they put up with all of us.

We ride our bicycles

until the next village

where a witch lives.

She pours wax into a bowl with oil,

she tells us whether we are hexed or not.

It's a secret, you can't tell.

Every Friday there's a dance in our school.

You lie about your age, you say you're thirteen and they let you in.

You wear socks in your bra, you exchange clothes.

You steal your mum's perfume.

You think you're in love, but you can't be sure.

Then boys run after us,

they pinch us and throw stones at us.

We arrive late home,

our parents tell us off 

so we cry and cry deep into the night.

There's nothing else but an echo

of what had happened a day before,

all blurry and faint,

while you pedal through the town.

II

They pick you up,

five girls and boys,

maybe even more.

Usually you hang out with boys.

You are so loud that your parents can't wait to see your back.

You slam the door.

Nights are sweet as a syrup.

Deep thoughts overwhelm you.

Your hands are so small,

hand in hand with your lover boy.

We drift through the night,

we drink in the street and chew strawberry gums.

There's always music with us.

Sonic Youth and torn jeans.

On the corner, in front of my high school,

a small shop is crowded.

I buy cassettes and rewind them with a pen

while sitting in a language class,

while reading Baudelarie.

My mum calls me Peach,

so soft and young,

she says.

Jewellery tinkles while you sneak out

and stay outside until morning.

You steal a ring in an Indian shop,

you light candles without understanding

the secret paths of the fire.

You drink beer at a festival and walk barefoot along the river.

You sit in somebody else's garage while a band rehearses,

you drink cheap brandy and smoke cigarettes.

You spend a night in woods,

your friends crash a car

and leave it there.

Sometimes you wake up

without knowing where you are.

We get punished because of bad grades,

we can't go to a concert.

We cry so much that at the end they let us go.

I read about art and literature,

I sleep in my friend's house,

we spend a night in her garden

watching stars and drinking coffee.

I steal a book from a library 

and give it away for a present.

My boyfriend leaves a note hanging on my door.

I find it at three o'clock in the morning.

I see a cigarette light in the dark.

I refuse to study Physics,

I hand in a blank test.

"Nothing will ever become of you", he said.

Many years after, I hear he got blind.

Somebody's aunt came from the USA,

she brought us all the old magazines she had

about Seattle grunge scene.

We sit around it for many days.

We constantly fall in and out of love.

Sometimes I just sit in the garden with my cat,

thinking that the moment will last forever.

It doesn't.

III

You have two plates and two glasses.

You only know two telephone numbers by heart.

You don't eat loads of bread with butter and jam at night.

A candle always burns in a corner of your living room.

If you get drunk, you do it by yourself.

You don't own a collection of Cds or cassettes.

You have loads of books in three languages.

You speak regularly with two friends,

your brother sometimes doesn't answer the phone.

You wish to adopt a cat,

but you decide to buy an iron and an ironing board first.

Your hair is dry.

Weeks pass and you don't leave your neighbourhood.

Sometimes you can't sleep and sometimes you wish to sleep

all day long,

all night long,

deep into the stars.

And I still think it will last.

Forever.

Sparkling dust falls all over my mind.