salt 2/4 before i enter the water i covermy bodyin oilwhen we work in the riverwe get woundsi don’t chose where i workwe take all the salt we wantthe salt raised to our facesthe river change colourit change colour throughout the daythe sunlight cause the colour to changeand the colour change over eveningit is either divine orfrom the sorcerer   


salt 1/4 i am getting salti take my canoe to the riverthen i’ll go down into the waterstart collection salt and put it in the canoei stay in the water for hoursi enter the water with a long stick, a basketand shovel to dig the salt at the bottomthe canoe takes me onto the waterthat’s where i hold the salt i collectone day the fish started dyingand we wondered if there was saltthen we realised that the riverhas turned completely saltyand that we could dig salt 


08.08.13 1.00pm dear anna. lately i have had nightmares. wake shivering — can i come see you? when will you have time. how are you? i miss – you – nothing — no writing — words disappeared inside — circulate in the body — like breathing: breath in a n n a breath out d e a r breath in a n n a breath out d e a r 09.08.13 6.00am nightmare — twin girls — one fell into the sea and were lost — unable to make it home — she forgot who she was and became homeless…


–eller hvis jeg siger: danmark er vold. mod landskab og vildheddet er drab af grise og andet godtfolkdjævleuddrivelse til kollektivt vanvidmin søstermin søster jeg ser dig


sisters oh planti have come to pray to youto take you with me and bring you homehere i bow infant heart in front of yougive me your blessinglittle sister, little sisterancient heartscome, come with me take us homefill us up


preamble. kids walking home in pitch black afternoons like small moon astronauts in their heavy winter clothesoblivious to their own braveness. gracefully  traveling this thick silence their traces are indented islands  circular poems of joyquickly covered by snow, whereas  their voices traveling all directions.  what is wanting in you when the beat of their drum is family


hvis du er syg, skal du være sammen med dyr. hvis der ikke er nogle (levende) dyr at være sammen med, kan du prøve at spise nogle døde. hvis du ikke har det bedre, næste dag, kan du tale højt. de vil høre dig –du kan starte med:

01.16.2022 1/2

allegiance 1/2she saysher mother is taking her sweet time to die–keep lingering in that space between here & beyond it wears out both of themshe says–yes i know it i reply,later she shares a dream of hers: 

01.16.2022 2/2

allegiance 2/2you are in a campit is both imposed & chosenno one is fully attending societywhich is why they are therethey are aware of their agebearing excommunicationthough feeling pain from ityou might be every individual thereone of them is a femaleshe decides to prove she’s still independentso she escapes, to show offthe others mockingly saying: “although she might pull it off, one more timewe are getting near our end of escapes” she is dressed in shimmering whiteas camouflage running through the snow for the fenceshe hurls herself through the airmaking it overt the barbed wire fenceenclosing the camp,she makes itover but…


you are living at a remote placeit has desert light: bleached & bright you have thoughts like: this is perfect loveyou are amazed you made this your home walking around in all this space & pleasureyou lift up your arms and feel like flying you take off, then gets liftedor caught by the buoyancy much higher than you inteded,in real life it is storming out, relentlessly: all is shaking & trembling each hour of each day into the night is a strenuous distance to covereven when being inside, still:it is not exactly scary, more like a rite