Poul Lynggaard Damgaard

Poetry

Defense of the street

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Poetry

The courage of the junction

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Poetry

Nothing without signs

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Dear city,

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I want to tell about the gap between houses and the way the windows are beyond everything. Do you know anything about that? Do you know the way neighbourhoods have been pulled on a string through your consciousness, and the groups of people emerge on the fringe of an area? I am not sure you do. Sometimes the zip of your coat is a downhill highway and you turn your back, you throw your coat off, jump into the water and swim away. The shining of your long wet hair is the light of the night´s illuminated space. On the corner of the main road where the neglected house without windows used to be, a booth has been placed, where the gaps and the buildings memories are being sold to visitors. Was it really your unknown brother, or was it just you, I looked into the eyes right there?

 

Best regards,

a house

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