Mary, untangling the knots & 3 more poems
Mary, untangling the knots Me, you, a goddamn scrappy moon,side by side, talking about new love that never comes.When I’m at home pulling jobs in bed I often thinkof far too purple things, like sonnets with hoary line breaks. Artificial joke, party, you askedwhether you sometimes hurt me, which was not your intention.I know, the…
Read MoreMonkey need no book has internet
No copies of this book were found in stock from 834 online book stores and marketplaces. What book is that? Well, the last book (2007) of the most prominent Serbian poet. No copies, worldwide. Emptiness. When we visited a small library in Cedeira, Galicia, we noticed that all books there stopped being borrowed after 1998.…
Read MoreLove grief / Cold / Wrell / On a shoestring
Love grief My friend said: it will be fine, stay calm.Study how to make yoghurt.It will come all by itself after the infection. Let it restin a friendly environmentwith pleasant temperature. My friend is a Turk.They like to put yoghurt on everything. I’m Dutch, I believe in plumping.You have to rock a lot for that.…
Read MoreCemetery Gates / Armchair
Cemetery Gates A dreaded sunny dayso I meet you at the cemetry gates.Bilderdijk and Beets are on your side. A dreaded sunny dayso I meet you at the cemetry gates.Bilderdijk and Beets are on your side,while Herman Gorter is on mine. So we go inside and we gravely read the stonesall those people, all those…
Read MoreGeheime Brief aan Kees ‘t Hart
Beste Kees, Je hele leven lang schrijf je eigenlijk al hetzelfde stuk. Alle stukken die jij afgelopen 50 jaar schreef vallen makkelijk samen te vatten: de literaire canon deugt niet. De mensen die deze canon organiseren zijn oppervlakkige nietsnutten. Je gaat tekeer tegen iemand als Dera, terwijl die arme jongen overduidelijk geen partij voor je…
Read MorePoetry / Half-human
Poetry The mouth is a cynical sensebecause it has to eat. Other sensesdon’t grind it, but the mouthbecame breadwinner. Miles of intestines ending in the lure of lipswith which the mouth recountsfood and words to the cliffs of teeth. The eye is always on holiday.The nose only snobbing windand coquetry. And the ear, ah, useless…
Read MoreOpen Brief aan Foodwatch
Het RIVM ken ik vooral als het instituut dat jaar in jaar uit tegen de regering liegt over het gebrek aan geneeskracht van paddenstoelen. Iets mag namelijk alleen maar op de verboden lijst staan als er geen medische toepassingen van een middel bekend zijn. Dat is bij paddenstoelen al lang en breed het geval, en…
Read MoreMarianne en Johan Niklasson about the NOW mushroom
Nice discussion about the ever-picking up amanita movement that will change humanity, When I first used this mushroom I felt it is the most important tool to transform humanity back into what it was supposed to be. Beautiful beings that are celebrating life all the time, instead of people hoodwinked by dystopia into dimmed beings.…
Read MoreRooster / Distance
Rooster In his black eyes flickerthe chip towns of the future. At night the reign of terror swingsthrough the grab bag of the run,a quizmaster without prizeswith always the right answer: Kukeleku. The world perishes.The world is going down. Kukeleku. * Distance What they can make of that, these days.World cities are built from distance,relationships…
Read MoreAmanita as a stimulant
It is almost impossible to imagine modern life without stimulants. Coffee, for instance, is one such stimulant – hardly anyone asks why you need a drug to feel awake, when that very question seems to me to be a rather essential one. I answer that question elsewhere, but there are types of people in our…
Read MoreJibbe Willems en zijn briefcensuur
Je schrijft een brief over een omstreden figuur. Bijvoorbeeld de Nieuw Zeelandse premier Jacinda Ardern dankzij wie tienduizenden zo niet honderdduizenden mensen in Nieuw Zeeland tegen de armoedegrens aan kwamen zitten omdat al hun inkomsten uit toerisme versnipperden. Zo’n persoon noem je dan provocatief ‘lief’ en dat doe je op een met belastinggeld omhoog gehouden…
Read MoreFather / No Dummy
Father Hanging on the jukebox of time,his crest creaking with ultimate crestiness. His sallow leather jacket just not wideenough for his eternal youth.His eyes bombers. The apocalypse itselfshyly asking him for pocket money. * No dummy Rather the fjords of a real facethan such an outstretched future face. Something you can still descend into,with a…
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