Wednesday 29 August 2018

28-18


just
before
sunset

               still
               still

a
reciprocal
You

              the
              wind

annuls
time               

             towards
             autumn

.


lige
før
solnedgang

              stadig
              stille

et
gensidigt
Du

              vinden

der
ophæver
tiden

              mod
              efterår

Sunday 26 August 2018

27-18


de profundis clamavit

                     dead leaves

and then

                     the wind
                     talks

I put on
socks

                    about
                    coming
                    sleep


.


de profundis clamavit

                     døde blade

og så

                     vinden taler

tager jeg
sokker på

                     om kommende
                     søvn

Saturday 18 August 2018

25-18


resurrected
from the ground

                        the voice
                        in the wind

darkness
is a sea

                       a bit like

for
stars
and
trees

                       the voice
                       of the wind

.


genopstanden
fra jorden

                      stemmen
                      i vinden

er mørket
et hav

                     lidt ligesom

for
træer
og
stjerner

                    vindens
                    stemme

Monday 6 August 2018

24-18


in a trough
between heat waves

                             budgie?

my feet
and the floor

                            what other
                            question

reconnect

                            is needed?

.

i en dal
mellem hedebølger

                            undulat?

forbindes
mine fødder

                            hvilket andet
                            spørgsmål

og gulvet
igen

                            er
                            nødvendigt?

Sunday 5 August 2018

2018-23


not where
I put it

                       word

but perhaps
in the glass
with dried beans

                       there’s a hole
                       in it

the path
the path

                       for light


.


ikke hvor
jeg lagde den

                        ord

men måske
i glasset
med tørrede bønner

                       der’ et hul
                       i det

vejen
vejen

                       til lys