haibun

ultimately made from stars I wash the dishes slowly

and then you (I) discover a new pain in a place old as yourself and you start to watch the C-threat movie roll in a place between your eyes and your brain but remind yourself that no one in your family has ever died from it but kept on living as well as they knew how until their heart or their head gave in to the pressure of life and you light another cigarette in a moment on Earth where probably a lot of other folks have more ground shaking experiences

even as we stay silent rain

and you notice from the sound the cars' tires make in contact with the asphalt that December is quite warm warmer than on the phoney Christmas films with third rate American actors playing santas that really don't want to be santas but straight up stupid guys wasting their days away discussing base-ball and drinking beer while expressing their emotions in polishing cars and you ascribe that sort cultural sewage to some kind of mind in the world wanting to remain stupid which is o.k. in small doses even you wouldn't mind a bit of one-track simple mindedness as long as you could switch it off again

Hallelujah the blisters I've got from living pop

ultimativt lavet af stjerner vasker op jeg langsomt

og så opdager du (jeg) en ny smerte på et sted så gammelt som dig selv og du begynder at se C-trussel filmen rulle et sted mellem dine øjne og din hjerne men minder dig selv om at ingen i din slægt er døde af dét men blev ved med at leve så godt de kunne indtil deres hjerter eller hoveder gav efter for presset livet udsatte dem for og du tænder endnu en cigaret i et øjeblik på Jorden hvor en masse andre mennesker sikkert har mere rystende oplevelser

selv mens vi tier regnen

og du lægger mærke til ved den lyd bilernes dæk laver mod asfalten at december er ganske varm varmere end på de falske jule-film med tredjerangs amerikanske skuespillere der spiller julemænd der egentlig ikke vil være julemænd men hellere men ganske almindelige fyre der taler om fodbold og drikker øl mens de udtrykker deres følelser ved at pudse biler og du tilskriver den type af kulturelt spildevand til en vis sindstilstand i verden der ønsker at forblive dum hvilket er o.k. i mindre doser selv ville du ikke have noget imod en simpel og ensporet tankegang når blot du kunne slukke for den igen

Hallelujah vablerne jeg fik af livet brister