Public Republic

Ivan Hristov

Photo: Cane Ludico Rosso

For Vladimir Levchev

And we were sitting
there somewhere
in our little
country,
in our little
neighborhood,
in our
apartment building.
We were sitting silently
and drinking.
And then
we talked.
We talked
about Allen Ginsberg
and Charles Bukowski,
about Jack Kerouac
and William Borroughs.
We talked about
the 60s,
about our loves
and our Americas.
And suddenly
the earth beneath us
shook…
Because
we had rearranged
the continents
far too much,
Vlado,
and for that
God
punished us.

Translated from Bulgarian by Angela Rodel