Stars
If everyone is a star
brown dwarfs are in the majority.
And they hardly give out light.
White dwarfs
are even worse,
brightly lit canteens.
What beautiful gardens we would have
if there were only red giants.
Consider also how this
would be a beautiful love poem
if your little green star
dissolved in my glass.
*
Treasure Map
Marx says history repeats itself
as tragedy and later as parody.
Marx should keep his nose
out of my family life.
Brel says childhood is
is a geographical phenomenon.
Look at your grandmother, says Karl,
when you were little: a miracle worker
later you see that this childhood friend
had no life of her own. Tragedy.
Time thins out fate.
Cheap pungent soap smell
displaces everything: granny becomes a farce.
Granny is a form of post-capitalism.
Says the communist whose
access to my family life
should be firmly denied.
Where is Jacques,
where is Jacques when you need him
with his geographical phenomena.
From: What do I buy for your darkwilde powers, Willem? Loewak Publisher, 2011, soon available in my collection ‘The Book of the Poems’.
