Oskar Davico......is serbian

Ognjen Smiljanic edits Tooth from California. He previously served as editorial assistant for Sulfur.

from Screwing

Turned on the stomach of the underground, first I will lick
                                   for a long time
with my raspy tongue
that lollipop-vagina of death.

There I will disappear like bread dough
thrown into a hearth,
rounder than the skirt with which she covers
her invisible loving she-thing.

In the deep and empty belly of that skeletal spectre
I will forget my wide open eye, like a green
pinned onto her naked breast.
My eye-prosthesis she lost not long ago
in the high grasses in which we,
                    haven?t I mentioned?,
screwed. No one would even think that last summer
Death and I made love.
Not even Imagination.

from Detimed Time

Disturbed, unsynchronized, all his three eyes fluttered.
Why never at once? Couldn?t they
simultaneously watch one and the same landscape, to
                                        collectively and brotherly
love the same arrival of silence at sunset?
                                   Why was
one eye?s perception of things late in regards to the second,
                                             the third?s
arriving too early to bring its impulse into
                      the cerebral cortex?
Does each sight in that three-room belvedere
have to first undress in order to clothe its snows
                              in summers
perceived by the other two eyes? Are these events less
to understand, given the fact that no one, not even myself,
                              could manage to be
at the same time in all three rooms, not now, or any other time?

from The Slaughterhouse Flutters in Us

Deep beneath the layers of unsleep, in the core of reality,
rises a long-buried remembrance of slaughterhouses
that offered cut pieces of distinctly trembling, scared
meat, which even posthumously remained the way it was
the minute before slaughter,
the way it will always be even when it is roasted, cooked
or fried, tossed into a new, similarly shitty beautiful
life. What kind of strength will that animal protein
                              give to man?
Purchased on the corner near the same slaughterhouse,
                                        free love
will make the man, whether a meat buyer or a butcher
                                   in a slaughterhouse,
suddenly flutter.