FOUR POEMS BY KONSTANTIN PAVLOV
FLOTATION
The rubber belt fl apped by
a lmos t touching me.
One pi ece jumped up onto
the assembl y line,
proud o f containing
too much zinc,
lo ts of lead
and an incredibl y tiny amount of
golden dregs.
They're funn y, those ore pieces.
They must have beli eved
the mill which enri ches the ore
resembl es a "salone de bouttes!"
I was fri ghtened.
I hes itated a lot.
But I made up my mind
and jumped on the line!
After all , they' re my bro thers, those ore pieces
'
I contain , as they do
too much zinc
lo ts of lead
and an incredibl y tiny amount of golden dregs.
So long, craftsmen !
Sledges smote us.
Sifts sifted us.
Solutions softened our weensy soul s.
It
was horribl e
and it hurt.
But now we are pure:
all zinc!
a ll lead!
T here are no go lden dregs left in us an y more!
