To (II)
To live – like Rosa Luxemburg –
as a free being
among those who behave
like prisoners
To cough up new words
while the literalists
still wander
through the alphabet
To spend truth
like hot spice
while the timid
sip the pale broth of the day’s lie
To leap
into the living current
of text
and dissonant sound
while the tasteless
deafen themselves
to the ringing light
of creation
To seize the moment
in a moody universe
that hides its synchronicities
from calculators
but swings the gates wide
for the laughing improvisers
To go – like Bob Dylan –
all the way
to existence’s New York
instead of turning back
to the iron pits
of Hibbing
To describe – like August Strindberg –
a view
as dazzling as Mosebacke
instead of finishing the coffee
and going home
to jerk off
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-03-08 at 15:17
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