they open fire
tonight, cordoned off with tape, behind white screens
they open fire
on the old house
who opens fire?
the enemy opens fire!
i open fire
joost oomen opens fire
the afûk, captain haddock, the frisian poets pack, mahatma gandhi and the social insurance bank open fire
saint nicholas opens fire
while the wind howls
while the moon hangs in darkness like a pale poem
pacifists open fire, defenceless billionaires in need of protection
from socialists open fire, multinationals on e-bikes open fire, mansplainers on jesus nikes open fire, influencers scrounging likes open fire
on the old house
and the wind clatters and the dogs yowl and the bitcoins rattle
the kids you caught with crackers in the park long before new year’s eve
open fire
arne slot in liverpool opens fire
switzerland and tibet open fire
sometimes you wake up in your old room
as if you can step into before
as if the past is just
around the corner
the old house –
your first steps buried in the garden near
the bones of the dog that ran off in the forest
the girl that never existed
sitting with her book on the window-seat
mum and dad, split up ages ago
but you still have so many questions
saint nicholas, are you there?
can I have a place to call home forever?
can I have a list of all the people who have at least one god behind them
no matter what?
can I have a dictionary of how people talk?
can it be quiet for once?
(….) because all the poets with a good heart and all the poets with bad intentions are opening fire
m. vasalis opens fire
t.s. eliot opens fire
emily dickinson opens fire
bang over the fields and the canals and the avenues
bang scorching down on the village
bang crawling under the bed in fear
but nothing’s happening, not here, nothing at all, not yet
this is how you lie awake tonight, cordoned off with tape,
hidden behind white screens
Translation: David Colmer