In a Zeroed-Out Migraine Aura
Life is a predicament
in the sea of air
The seconds are termite attacks;
the body ever frailer, hollowed out,
thin & light;
transparent, trailing, veily –
soon no more than a bacterial silhouette
in the first backlight that comes along
I throw myself
in front of a Sampo Rosenlew combine harvester
at Sirkka Laine’s Särkisalmi –
the curlews calling in their landing states –
and let myself be bound up
in a bale,
and shipped across the seas,
wrapped, inflicted, carried onward
I recognize the cold-hardened ship plate
from early rollings
at SSAB’s rolling mill in Oxelösund,
gnarled worker silhouettes back-and-forthing
up on the cooling bed;
summer-jobbing plate grinders ready in the shadows,
in hearing protection, respirators, enormous gloves,
helmets, high boots built to withstand the grinding machines’
fire-spitting,
and the bodies stepped into their heavy, flame-orange coveralls
I put my ear to it,
whisper into the surface, smile
I sing out
in foreign lands;
the transit stretches closed behind me
and my airy, termite-gnawed body
I settle down solo
in a robot silo
in Nebraska
with a collection of poems by Lawrence Beck
and contemplate the universe’s breeding ground
in a zeroed-out migraine aura
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-08-10 at 13:08
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