Walking to make space for my
And thinking
I am the untouchably dirty cone of your other dreams
Wat kommeren de weeën van ons gedrocht
My sons
There’s much I never told you
This story gets better when told
By grey mustachioed mouths
My vagabond mind dithers over dalliance with shine and neglect
I found some five dollar dreams in the attic
To saw spine one takes infinite care
Each knuckle done just so
This poem was written around Valentine’s day 2007, about three months into my relationship with the young lady who would eventually consent…
Grijs en groen geblokte dagen
Meten het langere licht en kleden
