Homeless and Guitar

 Now the homeless woman have bought a guitar. She has stayed in the same spot for more or less for a year. When “her” bench was removed because of “beautification”, she gathered a mixture of chairs and now her place looks like a camp. A one woman camp. There she sits practising her guitar with traffic all around her. She has a collection of songs printed on paper, some of them gathered in a binder. It's dark blue.

dung-beetle
this is the cradle
of philosophy

She wears a crash-helmet all day even when playing.



…


file date: May 18, 2013

Kommentarer

Send en kommentar

Populære opslag fra denne blog

Dream 21-10-14

Without warning “they” begin renewing parts of my body, exchanging bits and pieces following a system I can't make head or tails of. I say “they” because I sense more than two hands but I can't see who or what they belong to. One pair of hands is working on my right lower leg. It rips out the pieces of muscle that has sorta made knots of themselves and feel sore. I watch gloved hands put in glass marbles in nice colours and toy soldiers (the kind you're meant to paint yourself) while the toes on my left foot are being capped with steel caps with claws that would fit a dragon's feet. “How am I going to walk in those?” I ask. “You aren't,” says a voice coming from who know where. “You are meant to fly!” “Oh, well ...” I don't know what to say. Who doesn't want to be able to fly. “But I haven't got any wings.” “Patience, boy, patience.” steady rain it seems sleepless too … file date: October 21, 2014
Read more »

Voodoo

  Voodoo Absent minded I drop a herbal tablet on the glass table. I can hear it roll and stop but I can't find it. It's not behind the mug, the fruit basket, the ash tray, the tobacco pouches or the empty Cinderella video cassette. Maybe it's because I can't do two things at once: taking out a tablet and watch James Bond trying to avoid being killed by a sneaky voodoo man at the same time. Probably. almost spring I check the pollen count to make sure it's o.k. to sneeze . Voodoo Fraværende taber jeg en urtepille på glasbordet. Jeg kan høre den trille og standse, men jeg kan ikke finde den. Den er ikke bag kruset, frugtskålen, askebægeret, tobakspungene eller den tomme Askepot videokassette. Måske er det fordi jeg ikke kan gøre to ting på én gang: tage en pille ud og se James Bond forsøge at undgå, at blive slået ihjel af en lusket voodoomand på samme tid. Højst sandsynligt næsten forår jeg tjekker pollentallet for at sikre mig det' o.k. at nyse ...
Read more »

Faulty Empty Spaces

After taking stock the foreman comes to the office. ”Yup, just as I thought, we have a lot of faulty empty spaces left.” ”How many?” I asked. ”It seems that only one in ten of those we had manufactured in Taiwan is actually working as intended. The rest are just taking up space. I don't think we can sell them.” ”No, I guess not. Can't we fix them somehow?” ”Of course, but the cost of fixing them would exceed their production cost and the room for profit is too narrow for that.” “Throw them out, then.” “O.k. but it's not gonna come cheap either. They're considered hazardous waste so we need a specialised company with specialised tools and specially trained guys to come and get them.” “Can't we just bury them somewhere?” “Bury empty spaces? Man, think of the ground water! Do you plan to poison our grandchildren?” two steps forward one back night frost … file date: November 23, 2014  
Read more »