The inverted roles
8 September 2016
Clay pigeons
Rise up to my height
They fly high
Beyond sight
Artillery drawn reckons
The other beckons
Stand it off
The weight of the knees
Weary eye
Sees double
Compression of dimension
The folded bodies
We scare we
A game of two darks
Shares no light
Display might
It dissolves in the black marks
Streaking down my chin
Lower din
Your voice laminates
The whispers
The answers
To riddles we have become
They sail in monsoons
The three moons
They speak of shadows
That light smite
Pure de-light
Execution of the rows
Taking over night
Shifted poles
Stall my vibrations
They shiver
They quiver
Through contractions deliver
The inverted roles
Reading of the poem:
Hunter – Björk
It’s in our Hands – Björk
Possibly Maybe – Björk
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