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Gedicht

Philip Hammial

Tunnels

Tunnels

Tunnels

I’ve begun to walk with a stoop. The weight of the world on my shoulders? No, not at all. It’s the tunnels. Everywhere I go – out to the garage to find a tool, into a supermarket to buy some food – there’s a tunnel to pass through & one that’s never quite large enough for me to stand fully upright in. Who puts them there, always directly in my path, no matter what (even anticipating a sudden deviation on my part) & why? Out of simple spite? To teach me humility? I’ll probably never know.
Philip Hammial

Philip Hammial

(Verenigde Staten, 1937)

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Tunnels

I’ve begun to walk with a stoop. The weight of the world on my shoulders? No, not at all. It’s the tunnels. Everywhere I go – out to the garage to find a tool, into a supermarket to buy some food – there’s a tunnel to pass through & one that’s never quite large enough for me to stand fully upright in. Who puts them there, always directly in my path, no matter what (even anticipating a sudden deviation on my part) & why? Out of simple spite? To teach me humility? I’ll probably never know.

Tunnels

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