Two
By Petr Hruška
Two days of rain. Children on the floor. Scant trees.
The furniture confesses to the boards. Reaching for
something in reserve, my wife stretches way back, behind the
boxes of receipts and birthday candles. A bit of her stomach
appears, forgivably, like a slip of the tongue in a long eulogy.
***
An overturned bucket of white, meant for painting the
church’s ceiling. The paint spilled on the floor has hardened into
its own object, a wild white rag.
I’m not looking for God here. I’m looking for the painter with
white fingers, for that clumsy human movement.
Copyright Credit: Petr Hruška, "Two" from Everything Indicates, translated by Jonathan Bolton. Copyright © 2023 by Petr Hruška. Reprinted by permission of Blue Diode Press.
Source: Everything Indicates, translated by Jonathan Bolton (Blue Diode Press, 2023)