Thursday 28 June 2012

Poem by the Flemish writer
Peter Holvoet-Hanssen

Room 33 (on the rope)                                    for Jef                                                       

cancer war day rubs itself out
                                                                 penniless bard
lend me the lute
                                      roll out the red carpet for the night majesty
the owl the moon and the girl dream away the hungry python
the Flemish calf as well waggling on wobbly feet towards the slaughterhouse
gnawed at
                                    honk honk honk
                                                                            Turnhout Brussels is on fire

we were two small hairs on the ear of a young hippopotamus
later we made our own ears flap but refrain from laughter
at drifting snowflakes like tiny letters
a vagrant that slept to death in an overheated car
a businessman reads folds his newspaper it
grows cold then let me take you away to the land of Ben the mountain

hear the inaudible song by the brook in the conifer wood
thousands of moons old and The Haunted Inn still stands there
in time like a murder 
                                                the previous owners one of them shot
through the door at his brother on the other side brother shot back
so write yourself gone till we too are erased beneath six feet of snow                                                                                     

journey’s end
                                    from far and near you check in here
it’s raining ravens 200 deer bell desolately
                                                                                               floored – Room 33 
a will-o’-the-wisp feels up the woman till she sings
the night falls like a spider
                                                             snow whirls in its midst
stretch the rope my love
                                                          hang on the rope

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