lievelingen
trillingen vormen in je keel
je schreeuwt niet
praat juist zacht
over wat je denkt
en wat je verwacht als de wereld fluistert tegen je
en je even niet durft te praten met gedachten
wel met mij
best vriendelijk hoe je
een voorkeur hebt voor een aantal woorden
en ze liever bewaart voor het juiste moment
omdat je ze zo goed kent dat ze op een bepaalde plek
thuishoren
brinta
ik word misselijk
van die woorden
die opspelen
als je moet
denken 's nachts
als het buiten donker is
en de ochtend slaapt
voorlopig
want zinnen vormen
als een Brinta pap
die niet smaakt
niet lekker is
en niet helder wordt in je maag
waar was
was het ons waard
en of het waar was
waar we waren
met wat er uit je komt
had het wel
waar willen nemen
voor wat het was
wees eens eerlijk
tegen de volgende die is
met wat er nou echt was
en waar je mee moet
dat je niet met je zelf om kan
worn
we have no rest
lest it does not soak us
our hands pressed in wood
the surface varnished our mouths
with conversations in a uniform
we were worn
I wore you so
inside
if you’re folding shoulders
into origami
no enrichment is given
and all the vitamins
are evaporating
out of you
from the morning
or the day
must be a mistake
you
cavities
you are
too generous dear
for their sharp teeth
they'll go to the dentist
fill up their cavities
from giving into
too much candy
as they walk pridefully
with ice white smiles
and you now
have dentures
language-view
as i look
from up above
my body moves
with sets of eyes
following its shape
its current state
driving into air
elevated arms
fingers tilted to be
alive and well,
well,
i speak much
too plenty, yes
no, not with the right tongue
or the left
the words are yours
or my mind’s own, now
full of the things
i know
i see
i bathe in it
with no verbal ways
what i cannot say
the F-train
stepping on the platform,
we got into the f-train
sitting down in a row
facing a man
laying down,
trying to get warm
the saliva dripped from his tongue,
and mouth
looking me in the eye through his lashes
staring, in a confronting way
as if to say,
you are damned for looking down at me
you are damned for not being me
he spit,
dropped his bag,
with nothing to lose,
or have
next stop, Rockefeller Center
a typical friendship entered
as the man laid there, they sat
not giving a damn,
with big slices of pizza in hand
they sat,
chatted,
ate, and walked away
not a minute later,
the man stirred,
and cursed
he damned them; in the direction they went
over and over again
dust driven
25 kilos of thoughts echo here
kept alone
our heads
you must only let it roam around a little
she said
it’s the weight of letting things settle
into the wallpaper and murals of a room
that’s when we really embed
into a home
you carried yards worth of hands
towards the dumping grounds
although you tell
that it wasn’t ever in vain
for what they carried
maybe, I’d deem it dangerous
to carry around
you might
send them on their way
direct your nose up into the air
smell the dust driven by push
and pull back when you move
say
this is where I’ll be
in this air, minute, smell and sound
because that’s how
you’ll get bound to a place and where the rest is carried away
make room
the next,
you say
will be put on a pedestal
sample streets
she sits with her right
foot strong
and the other leaning
left foot on its side
a little lopsided, maybe
salt it, prod it
glint with the corner
not with your mouth
act as you
and close
when his do
cross your legs to be gracious
with heels stuck
to yours
and only little love still
to hand it out in samples
in little bottles that say:
try me
and then decide