voor Martine

can i really tell the time?
know indeed it has gone by?
without a season changed,
a lover left in a different place,
new piles of paperwork, bills,
the furniture reshuffled, rearranged?

what breaks across this heaving divide?
from that youthful brown pub on a starry night,
to the day her mother stepped out of her life,
and she applied yet again for a peaceful slaughter,
a grown woman now, no longer a daughter,
and then quite maybe,
nothing more,
(nothing further?)

oh i thought i’d seen it all,
oh what a fucking fool was i!
i thought i’d heard it all,
(and just like her i wanted to die)
then i tumbled into that sloping town,
some breed of idiotic Aussie clown,
i sat down with her so fat and wise,
and we reckoned hell,
and she told the time.



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