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
maybe
land ahead or
a glacier
death itself
where there should be
no life
homeward bound with a shopping bag
bang
dead
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
alone
always alone
life and death have in common
that one is alone
always alone
Birna Þórðardóttir
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
maybe
land ahead or
a glacier
death itself
where there should be
no life
homeward bound with a shopping bag
bang
dead
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
alone
always alone
life and death have in common
that one is alone
always alone
Birna Þórðardóttir