Poem
Anne Vegter
OUR DISEASES
just as i can startle at a stop sign i can see our similarities:we the project without diseases, me as an image: you who delineated me
it’s not always the converts that make the difference, we, too,
in uncomfortable domestic settings, ask about the boundary between
voice and desire, that divided us, chased us off,
scattered us, diverted the road from the center to the outside
and that became our disease, yet you jump like a naked piggy, you jump
like a prize, you’ve been picked up and you leave the last disease to me
© Translation: 2021,
ONZE ZIEKTEN
ONZE ZIEKTEN
zoals ik kan schrikken van een stopbord zie ik onze overeenkomsten:wij het project zonder ziekten, ik als afbeelding: jij die mij omlijnde
het zijn niet steeds de keerlingen die het verschil maken, ook wij,
in ongemakkelijke thuissituaties, vragen naar de scheidslijn tussen
stem en verlangen, die ons heeft verdeeld, ons heeft verjaagd,
ons uiteengedreven, de weg verlegd van middendoor naar buitenaf
en dat werd onze ziekte, maar je springt als een naakte big, je springt
als een prijs, je bent ontvangen en je laat de laatste ziekte aan mij
© 2020, Anne Vegter
From: Big Data
Publisher: Querido,
From: Big Data
Publisher: Querido,
Poems
Poems of Anne Vegter
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OUR DISEASES
just as i can startle at a stop sign i can see our similarities:we the project without diseases, me as an image: you who delineated me
it’s not always the converts that make the difference, we, too,
in uncomfortable domestic settings, ask about the boundary between
voice and desire, that divided us, chased us off,
scattered us, diverted the road from the center to the outside
and that became our disease, yet you jump like a naked piggy, you jump
like a prize, you’ve been picked up and you leave the last disease to me
© 2021, Anne Vegter
From: Big Data
From: Big Data
OUR DISEASES
just as i can startle at a stop sign i can see our similarities:we the project without diseases, me as an image: you who delineated me
it’s not always the converts that make the difference, we, too,
in uncomfortable domestic settings, ask about the boundary between
voice and desire, that divided us, chased us off,
scattered us, diverted the road from the center to the outside
and that became our disease, yet you jump like a naked piggy, you jump
like a prize, you’ve been picked up and you leave the last disease to me
© 2021,
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