domingo, 6 de julio de 2008

ENGLISH POEMS BY LARS PALM






(old danish town)

on christmas night 1263 the church tower fell & killed several people standing below. wrath of their local god? poor construction? both? neither? sabotage before the word? then in the 16th century the town burned. & was rebuilt largely in stone. since then?














(moonlight serenade)

when darkness falls the cicadas start their song. unused to it, the northerners are at pains naming the phenomenon properly. how the cicadas name it is a matter best explored by more seasoned entomologists. i can only imagine they would use very few consonants. the entomologist may wonder at the relevance of consonants in this context. the cicadas may marvel at the relevance of any context outside that of making noise














(walking to borås)
for Jim Dine

did you tell pinocchio the quickest way would be route 40 from gothenburg (or göteborg as the locals call it)? did you tell him it might take a couple of days? did you tell him anything about the town? how it for decades lived almost exclusively on producing clothes & selling them in hordes of factory outlets. & how in recent years production has been outsourced. & how it has had some hard times figuring out what to live on now. do you think pinocchio will be happy there? or will he walk on?














(night)

now how's about a little prose poem for ye to get the night moving? a cat on a rucksack. a man-flute breathing shallowly in the next room. radio on low playing old swedish hiphop. rage still burning ice cold as the night outside is, directed at nothing in particular. the canterbury tales open to maybe page 15 beside me. a lovely lovely book. now what is all this about? & who could be arsed with it? another question? maybe a statement? addressing the cat? or the man? or the nothing? or the radio? or geoff chaucer? or you?














(what's)
for Chris Rizzo

what comes after this. is sitting for some time. so what we will do we will not tell. think it. some fires set in the north-east. best to use water. lots of it. this comes after what. then some. come summer. but it already came. game set. let your head eat in peace. then rest. the rest is not silence. but silent. the difference is. this day another mysterious fiesta. the difference is what comes after this. it thinks. & puts on his sunglasses to protect himself from the cool wind. wound up like a clockwork dog. justin’s justice. not law. flawed trees tremble. & the immensely popular yorkshire terrier barks. as usual. usually soap is used for operas. operations ceased. military mostly. most of which caused a need for surgery. maybe standing up comes after this. walking off laughing at the little trotting terrier. mean-spirited? just possibly. but the streets just may be meaner. been meaning to ask for some time. what comes after this. is








lars palm lives in malmö. he has written some poems & published them here & there & will write some more poems & publish them somewhere or other. he blogs at http://mischievoice.blogspot.com/



No hay comentarios: