Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Wendy Videlock

WHO

WHO

WHO

It was the blind girl from the rez who
stole the baker’s missing bread;
it was the guitar-playing fool who crooned
and raced the wild mustangs through our heads.
It was the village idiot who played
his chess without the fool, the bowl
of soup who said too late, too late, too late
to blame the thread, the spoon, the text, the mole.

Beside the waterfall of fallen things
just east of town, it was the bearded man
attaching fallen things to angels’ wings
while singing legends to the long, long grass.

It was the moon who laughed and laughed.
It was the moon who laughed herself in half.
Close

WHO

It was the blind girl from the rez who
stole the baker’s missing bread;
it was the guitar-playing fool who crooned
and raced the wild mustangs through our heads.
It was the village idiot who played
his chess without the fool, the bowl
of soup who said too late, too late, too late
to blame the thread, the spoon, the text, the mole.

Beside the waterfall of fallen things
just east of town, it was the bearded man
attaching fallen things to angels’ wings
while singing legends to the long, long grass.

It was the moon who laughed and laughed.
It was the moon who laughed herself in half.

WHO

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère