THE BLACK CAT

by Khe Iem
translated by J. Do Vinh

The black cat with my soul and a piece of
my rib, wakes up every morning not
washing its face, every morning not
brushing its teeth; the black cat with clay-like

eyes, opening and closing, or open
-ing and never closing, as it climbs up
and down the stairs, dragging with it my soul
and a piece of my rib, forgetting that

i had lived much darker days, since when and
why it was i had buried them in my
pocket full of allusions, gathered from
many different tales, strung together

to make up this story about the black
cat with my soul and a piece of my rib;
of course, that is the black cat with clay-like
eyes, not any other kind of eyes; even

as, the black cat climbs up and down the stairs.