Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Oreet Meital

NIGHT JOURNEY

She was fourteen
long-legged like a doe
they said they took her for a ride
in his dented old Subaru
his friends sat
inside drinking beer
 
they cut her long hair
and stuck it on the windshield. In the shape
of braids and bangs she hates
braids and they liked it because
there was no face on the windshield
 
they lay her down on the hood with her legs
spread one tied to the right hand mirror
and the other to the left and that’s how they went for a ride
 
her head sagged
onto the hood that’s how they taught her
to open her legs wide
when he tells her and afterwards
rides her smashing what was left
of her face with a fist, cherubim in the meadow
that she sees they don’t see in front of her
and they encircle her, spilling
beer and singing about her.

NIGHT JOURNEY

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NIGHT JOURNEY

She was fourteen
long-legged like a doe
they said they took her for a ride
in his dented old Subaru
his friends sat
inside drinking beer
 
they cut her long hair
and stuck it on the windshield. In the shape
of braids and bangs she hates
braids and they liked it because
there was no face on the windshield
 
they lay her down on the hood with her legs
spread one tied to the right hand mirror
and the other to the left and that’s how they went for a ride
 
her head sagged
onto the hood that’s how they taught her
to open her legs wide
when he tells her and afterwards
rides her smashing what was left
of her face with a fist, cherubim in the meadow
that she sees they don’t see in front of her
and they encircle her, spilling
beer and singing about her.

NIGHT JOURNEY

She was fourteen
long-legged like a doe
they said they took her for a ride
in his dented old Subaru
his friends sat
inside drinking beer
 
they cut her long hair
and stuck it on the windshield. In the shape
of braids and bangs she hates
braids and they liked it because
there was no face on the windshield
 
they lay her down on the hood with her legs
spread one tied to the right hand mirror
and the other to the left and that’s how they went for a ride
 
her head sagged
onto the hood that’s how they taught her
to open her legs wide
when he tells her and afterwards
rides her smashing what was left
of her face with a fist, cherubim in the meadow
that she sees they don’t see in front of her
and they encircle her, spilling
beer and singing about her.
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