beneath the Anvil
star
our throats filled
up
with lame horses
for a while
when we dragged out
the giant slug
made from
the-spaces-between-stones-in-the-field
and made it our idol
the grass-king
himself were crushed
by longing for the
Elegian Sea
our
barbed-wire-limbs cut open
what little field of
vision that was left
in the darkened
rooms of hope
I said ”Rope”
you said ”Rope”
we all said ”Rope”
and a snake of light
crept out
having lost the
chance
of recognition
under Amboltstjernen
fyldtes vore struber
med lamme heste
for en tid
vi trak den
gigantiske snegl
der var lavet af
mellemrummene-mellem-stenene-på-marken ud
og gjorde den til
vor afgud
selveste græskongen
knustes
af længsel efter
det Elegiske Hav
vore pigtrådslemmer
opskar
det lille synsfelt
der var tilbage
i håbets
tusmørkeværelser
jeg sagde ”Reb”
du sagde ”Reb”
vi sagde alle ”Reb”
og lysets slange
krøb ud
efter at have
forpasset chancen
for genkendelse
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