i am – not – am i
homage à inga sólveig
the ship of gold is roaming the sky
            in the closeness of distance
being there or here
             am i
out at sea looking at the sky
            or way up in the sky looking at the sea
                        in the grave or above
on a pedestal or
            definitely dead on the street
                        in  the gutter                            
                                   in the toilet
                                               under everybody's feet
 does it make a difference
who wept for me
             if i were wept for
does it make a difference
here or there
            the grave in the sea or from the sea
                        on a beach
                                   in a yard
                                               a graveyard
land ahead  or
            a glacier
                        death itself
                                   where there should be
                                               no life
homeward bound with a shopping bag
                                   on the street
life is deadly serious
                   unless death relieves you from it
inga solveig manages to frame everything in the aperture
            the eye capturing the moment
                        that perhaps never was
but could
            could have been
in the sky
            at sea
                        in the air and the ocean
in a garden
            a street
even in a most enticing dúsa-like dress
  always alone
 life and death have in common
            that one is alone
                        always alone

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