Tuesday, December 08, 2009


It's impossible to think about a leaf.

I picked up a leaf in a parking-space today - it had been a birch leaf, though now it was leathery and chestnut-coloured, I wanted it to swab some birdo off the D/S window.

shape of an ivy-tree mist; berry-splattered birdo

I must know no language. I can't write with only these keyboard letters.

I have to be somewhere else. Only then...

In a strange office; grey, charcoal, pools in which kindle locally the hearths of the tribes, the sharp colours of Microsoft Windows and polo-shirts. But predominantly, grey and charcoal. Through blinds and frosted glass, also charcoal on grey, the mysterious comfort of scripture: the shapes of leafless branches.

               tekið blaðka gleðileg      jólinn: gras
               lendinnar, Þú ert
                         á óvinni           unnu mig
; almennilega viðarkolum,lætú                     mig
                karlinn vedri           vilja vera           drykkjuvísa ur
                               í vatnum fossni,
               ormblóð ert tveir
                mál (sekúnda tungu     
     mál), sum er Ék                ferðaföttil

hugtag: Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl


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