Inger Christensen

I
Inger Christensen
from Letter in April: IV
Already on the street
with our money clutched
in our hands,
and the world is a white laundry,
where we are boiled and wrung
and dried and ironed,
and smoothed down
and forsaken
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from Letter in April: VII
On the street
with our money
clutched
in our hands,
buying bread
and scattering breadcrumbs
for the bluish
doves.
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from Light: Blue Poles
Tonight, away begins to go
farther away, and the dream
what do we know of the dream
metallic leaps Jackson Pollock
silvery streams Jackson Pollock
I gaze across the sea

see in the distance your walk and you
pass the Pacific, distant and blue
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from Light: “I always thought reality”
I always thought reality
was something you became
when you grew up.

In the square stands Fata Morgana
looking tired, shouting
Morning paper—morning paper.

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from Light: “If I stand”
If I stand
alone in the snow
it is clear
that I am a clock

how else would eternity
find its way around

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from Light: “It’s very strange”
It’s very strange
the eggs are everywhere

There must be some mistake
the eggs are so close together

There seems to be no room for us
Push the eggs closer together

It’s impossible
We must get closer together
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from Light: Men’s Voices
Men’s voices in the dark
—once in a temple—
men’s voices in the sun
—once I was caryatid
number nine—
men’s voices in the park
—I was a statue
untouchable naked
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from Light: Winter
Winter is out for a lot this year
the beach already is stiff
all will be one will be one this year
wings and ice will be one in the world
all will be changed in the world:
the boat will hear its steps on the ice
the war will hear its war on the ice
the woman will hear her hour on the ice
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