THERE.

A man
well-equipped
With an own
robust
Style and rhythm
crosses
The road

And looks both ways
fifteen times
For all the crazies

ME.

I’m writing in English
usually a bad sign

Means I don’t want to think
just flow

Disappear down some drain
and resurface

Cleansed.

GET.

The price is too high.
They want me to stop being me
Just for access to their premises
And to what my body craves

Just once
I’d like someone
Who doesn’t give a flying fuck
To teach me

How.

CAN’T.

Sometimes I wonder
Why I can’t want what
others do

The thought never lingers
Because I always find
I’m unapologetic about it

And people tell me
that’s inexcusable.

PEACE.

I want to make peace
With my former town

So I sit and I drink and I watch
All I see is tits and kids
I’m in the mood for neither

After a while I pay and leave
And enjoy my quiet home.

U MAG MIJ WEGSTEMMEN

My time here is up
I’ve outstayed my stay
No longer of tomorrow
Even hardly of today

LIFE IS AN ADDICTION

Life is an addiction
It wrecks your body and it rots your soul

Life is an affliction
You suddenly have it and there is no cure
Every known remedy is fatal
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HET HOOGSTE WOORD

Stil was hij. Het Hoogste Woord.
Daar stond hij, in de wachtkamer.
Hij roerde zich nog even niet.

Het Hoge Woord staarde uit het raam en vroeg zich zwijgend af
hoe het zover had kunnen komen.
Natuurlijk, het had veel te maken gehad met Het Laatste Woord.
Als Het Laatste Woord niet zo’n stampij had lopen maken,
waren er niet zoveel woorden gevallen.
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