— will rain make her bloom?
writings
From pieces
06.01.2018
— gæst adskillelser, hvor jeg er tilstede og han bevæger sig (afsted). lufthavne vågner i torden. lugten af jet benzin hænger i næsen endnu. mit landskab: (bulbjerg) gæsterne sover i gæsteværelset ingen er døde endnu havtorn blomstrer fugle sover få timer om natten? børn er ude med bare ben til elleve de kalder harer kaniner uden bur de hopper rundt som dem og har haletudser i sylteglas slipper dem fri og føler sig nådige de lår de skubber deres kolde tæer ind imellem i sengen om morgenen bliver aske, så jord og så biller
03.29.18
in this spring of the bird white-crowned, white-throated, anyone miles on end, swedes lane is barely passable from snow drift. still, birds are here. blooming blessed strength and so will we
09.01.2017
there was an eclipse. there she’d love to have seen it one time there was one. up here the world fell dead silent. the light went even paler when she thinks of not looking into the blue of those blue eyes ever again she recall that quietness such prolonged fear of loss. then the loss that frees the gaze for shifting
07.16.2017
unlatch |ʌnˈlatʃ| verb she unlatches the barn
07.16.2017
girl with no daddy, is a barn with no walls girl without daddy, is a barn without doors girls without dads are barns without openings barns without daddies are girls with no openings an opening with a girl without daddy is no — girls with barns are openings without daddies
04.09.2017
april is the sweetest month! anemones’ rise. as foetuses in acidic soil. pale greetings withstand a winters’ grieve paws or hooves. or hearts make way flavouring buds and shoots a blind recurring grace
01.09.2017
vipperne mod huden. hurtigt. ned/op igen i én bevægelse berøring/af fravær — den mest præcise afstand, til dine døde septembermorgenen i dis solen tung og hvid/hæver sig rødkløver i vasen/fra jorden — det sidste slægtsbånd/i live
12.20.2016
at least six lapland longspurs mixed in with thousands of horned larks easily found by listening for their distinct rattle calls also a single white pelican today. it crossed in low (less than 100 feet away), gained elevation and headed west
12.07.2016
— are you happy? — will you be warm enough? your skin and your freckles and your fur and eyelashes, all under. for a split second, the rebirth in catching your breath again high tide. 39,2 °f crushed shells from the seagulls. scattered on wooden planks pay attention to not cut your bare feet when you get up out of the water
