Billiards in Malta: A poem by Boris Novak
BILLIARDS IN MALTA:
A MIRRORING MEMORY OF DAPHNE CARUANA GALIZIA
1 Monday, October 16th, 2017, was a usual working day for Malta.
2 The weather was warm, 24ºC, the Sun unloaded its light shipload.
3 The northeaster played billiards chasing little clouds over the blue altar.
4 At 3 PM an invisible billiard cue stick flicked a car from the road.
5 After the blast Peugeot 108 simply vanished from the asphalt.
6 A car crash? A slip down? Broken brakes? Who knows? That's Malta.
7 People froze in shining shelters, seagulls panicked squeaking their alt.
8 Nobody knew what happened. Everybody knew. The world came to a halt.
9 In Malta billiard players always disappear into the blue.
10 A young man came running from the neighbouring house. That's Matthew.
11 Tin projectiles digged shallow, smouldering craters like in a sci-fi.
12 80 metres from the road Matthew found scattered remains of his mother
13 Daphne Caruana Galizia. She was a journalist. And that is why
12 80 meters from the road Matthew found scattered remains of his mother.
11 Tin projectiles digged shallow, smouldering craters like in a sci-fi.
10 Three young men will always search for their mother: Andrew, Paul & Matthew.
9 In Malta billiard players with their billi000ns always disappear into the blue.
8 Nobody ever knows. Everybody knows. The world comes to a halt.
7 People freeze in shining shelters, seagulls panick squeaking their alt.
6 A car crash? A slip down? Broken brakes? Who knows? That's Malta.
5 After the blast Peugeot 108 simply vanished from the asphalt.
4 At 3 PM an invisible billi000n cue stick flicked a car from the road.
3 The northeaster gained billi000ns chasing little zer000es over the blue altar.
2 The weather was warm, 24ºC, the Sun unloaded its light shipload.
1 Monday, October 16th, 2017, was a usual working day for Malta.
Boris A. Novak is a Slovene poet, essayist, playwright, translator and PEN International Vice-President.