postcards from the Misantropics
I'm seventeen and twentynine(
the original baptismal font from Urnes stave church
is installed on the train between Paris and Budapest
it's the fifteenth oj July 1997
me and twelve other traveling Norwegians in a celebratory mood
wasted on 4 centiliter bottles of aquavit
take turns in filling it with vomit and piss
laughing as loud as possible because the conductor
sounds like a french edition of Harald Mæhle
the original Harald Mæhle
before the dubbing
and the many changes of character began
inbetween the expulsions we sing
so loud
the theme song from "Les Mondes Engloutis"
that everybody is kicked off after Strasbourg somewhere
Paris
we write in our post cards
was never as beautiful as Oslo
that day when King Olav stepped onto the tram
and forgave the rest of the world for being so poor
and disagreeable
but almost
)and an age inbetween running paralell with the tracks
from Stavanger to Oslo
Bergen to Oslo
Oslo to Dombås
SK327 from Oslo to Copenhagen
E47 in direction of Hamburg and Berlin
Ringbahn S41 from Landsberger Allee to Halensee
two fighter planes crossing the blue sky
the cork from a bottle of Prosecco shooting off
seven or eight concentric rings escaping the impact
your perfect legs on a near green patch of grass
your neck (fails description)
leap year
the very richest of the poor
no batteries for the MP3 player
breast strokes in a tiny lake
slowly filling up with books and long poems
submerged and new
clean
ready
