The Brothers


Tunnel voices
beneath the city

The Dagar Brothers
carve through air and stone

Ancient throats

Ice-scrape lungs

Wild boars overturn
the gardens of order

Motorcycles strain
against their chains

Dogs of longing
foam in the roadside dark

Presence tilts
in the machinery of repetition

I lie myself into being

Rain against the glass

Bruised skies above Harg

The Brothers rise
through the final reaches of hearing

Then only
the tyranny of the present

bubbling over




Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2026-05-13 at 17:52

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Albert Vynckier The PoetBay support member heart!
Tunnel voices
beneath the city

I like it: is there an echo in the tunnel ?

Presence tilts
in the machinery of repetition

yes one would become mad of his repetitions, better not to notice them from inside

Then only
the tyranny of the present

I completely agree, a fleeting moment, the present that prints deeply in my cortex every sensations
2026-05-14