Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mischa Andriessen

CROTCH

Two shadows, he opened
the door, did as he was told
by pulling on his shoes, walked
with the steaming coats, accepted
the cigarette, the place in the back
of the waiting car. Not ten minutes later
he was standing naked in a room
taking his hands away from his crotch
turning on request to face the wall
feeling in accordance with instructions
how smooth it was, like glass, but dark.
That was all. They returned his clothes
kept watching until he was dressed
looked back briefly as if to make sure
his departure wasn’t some kind of mistake
walked out of the building, took a quiet road
home, where he bolted the door
nervously pulled plugs out of sockets
carefully crept into bed beside his sleeping wife,
wrapped himself in a blanket, asked
if he could have the light off, please.

KRUIS

KRUIS

Twee schaduwen, hij opende
de deur, deed zoals hem werd gezegd
zijn schoenen aan, liep mee
met de dampende jassen, accepteerde
de sigaret, de plek op de achterbank
van de stationaire wagen. Geen tien minuten later
stond hij uitgekleed in een kamer
haalde zijn handen voor zijn kruis weg
draaide zich op hun verzoek naar de muur
voelde toen hem dat werd gevraagd
hij was glad als glas maar donker.
Dat was het. Ze gaven hem zijn kleren
bleven kijken tot hij aangekleed was
keerde zich nog even om als wilde hij zeker zijn
dat zijn vertrek geen vergissing was
liep het pand uit, nam stil een weg
naar huis, waar hij de deur vergrendelde
gejaagd stekkers uit stopcontacten trok
voorzichtig naast zijn nog slapende vrouw
in bed kroop, zich in een deken rolde
vroeg of het licht uit mocht, alsjeblieft.
Close

CROTCH

Two shadows, he opened
the door, did as he was told
by pulling on his shoes, walked
with the steaming coats, accepted
the cigarette, the place in the back
of the waiting car. Not ten minutes later
he was standing naked in a room
taking his hands away from his crotch
turning on request to face the wall
feeling in accordance with instructions
how smooth it was, like glass, but dark.
That was all. They returned his clothes
kept watching until he was dressed
looked back briefly as if to make sure
his departure wasn’t some kind of mistake
walked out of the building, took a quiet road
home, where he bolted the door
nervously pulled plugs out of sockets
carefully crept into bed beside his sleeping wife,
wrapped himself in a blanket, asked
if he could have the light off, please.

CROTCH

Two shadows, he opened
the door, did as he was told
by pulling on his shoes, walked
with the steaming coats, accepted
the cigarette, the place in the back
of the waiting car. Not ten minutes later
he was standing naked in a room
taking his hands away from his crotch
turning on request to face the wall
feeling in accordance with instructions
how smooth it was, like glass, but dark.
That was all. They returned his clothes
kept watching until he was dressed
looked back briefly as if to make sure
his departure wasn’t some kind of mistake
walked out of the building, took a quiet road
home, where he bolted the door
nervously pulled plugs out of sockets
carefully crept into bed beside his sleeping wife,
wrapped himself in a blanket, asked
if he could have the light off, please.
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