Tema för första dagen är Individ<>Samhälle.
PUERTO RICO : Poverty / Naomi Ayala
At evening time
between lampposts & garbage
drums turned over in the wind,
poverty is black ice...
or a train, whose departure you miss,
whistling at you in the distance.
Your will is chalky on your tongue
like aspirin
& patience hangs like frayed
dreads down your back.
*
YORKSHIRE : Rodez / Donald Davie
Northward I came, and knocked in the coated wall
At the door of a low inn scaled like a urinal
With greenish tiles. The door gave, and I came
Home to the stone north, every wynd and snicket
Known to me wherever the flattened cat
Squirmed home to a hole between housewall and paving.
*
GALICIEN : Café / Manuel Rivas
He hated waking up.
It sometimes took him hours to come to terms with the world.
So he preferred having breakfast in that roadside café
where nobody was helpful.
The customers were cornered creatures
with hangovers in their eyes
and the proprietor poured coffee over the cup without apologising.
But then he weighed more than eighteen stone.
The premises were sold.
The new owner asked questions with a smile.
And he decided to stop going.
*
DUBLIN : Domestic Violence / Eavan Boland
In that season suddenly our island
Broke out its old sores for all to see.
We saw them too.
We stood there wondering how
the salt horizons and the Dublin hills,
the rivers, table mountains, Viking marshes
we thought we knew
had been made to shiver
into our ancient twelve by fifteen television
which gave them back as gray and grayer tears
and killings, killings, killings,
then moonlight-colored funerals:
*
HARLEM : I, Too / Langston Hughes
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.
*
FÄRÖARNA : ur Palimpsest / Kim Simonsen
Förlorad kommunikation och hemlösa katter i civiliserade områden
en utsträckt arm hindrar och skyddar på en öde gata
påminner dig om, att den här staden är som en väggtapet av sorg.
*
BASKIEN : from Nevsky Prospect / Felipe Juaristi
Because the loner is a nowhere.
Geography is infinite sea.
Run away from certainty, deserter.
Icarus renewed, airborne, naked.
Can’t find a temple for shelter,
a flower garden for thoughts to thrive.
Eyes of faith shut.
Wisdom not to be the stranger,
come and go in stillness.
Speak wordlessly but say
everything that is exists, will exist
once it is within.
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