Voor Geuzenveld

Steep stairs loom above a figure
sat before quiet door alone.

Here he rolls his thoughts into
paper and smokes them over time.

Forgotten places hang above the lintel
holding the thin height upright.

On softly cobbled street futures
step from dark alley and lit window.

Faces merge into colours and
languages to be misunderstood in the night.

Words will stretch long over
roaring songs captured by traffic.

Each hour passes as new
with the burbling in culture.

Foreign findings filter through
an uninhibited haze.



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