A picture goes sideways through the world. Stops. While you decide - as only you can - if you want to marry it or not, it moves forwards and backwards at the same time. But how long can one take to decide?
A picture is a stone. The first. But so far the stone is invisible. First we see an abandoned anthill that isn't there. But it has been there. We see. Until the stone goes through the mirror. With toothpaste and all the rest. No messages written in lipstick. But a kiss of flesh and blood. Pine-needle scent.
From: Den Fynske Forårsudstilling 2009. Catalogue. Prose Poems by Laus Strandby Nielsen.
Poem translated from Danish by David McDuff
Prose Poem
Prose Poem
Prose Poem
1 comment:
Lovely! Thank you!
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