Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

John McCullough

THE AMAZING TINTIN

THE AMAZING TINTIN

THE AMAZING TINTIN

sucks ice cubes at a bar, gazes out to sea.
Tintin without Haddock who he left

with a question mark hanging beside his beard.
Tintin in his blue sweater, who wants to help

sad skinheads but gets asked to the sauna.
Snowy’s run away. The boy’s forgotten

how Calculus wandered off. He’s growing
stubble and his wet hair won’t lift

for the next frame. Where are
the frames anyway? Where, when people collide,

are the coloured stars, the ragged
RRRING of the telephone?

He spits ice in the glass. He can smell
adventures out there: smugglers doubling

as drag queens, treasure under the old pier
but he’s stopped too long. He’s lost

the maps and tonight for one last time Haddock,
cranky, devoted Haddock, will drink

himself to sleep aboard his ship.
Close

THE AMAZING TINTIN

sucks ice cubes at a bar, gazes out to sea.
Tintin without Haddock who he left

with a question mark hanging beside his beard.
Tintin in his blue sweater, who wants to help

sad skinheads but gets asked to the sauna.
Snowy’s run away. The boy’s forgotten

how Calculus wandered off. He’s growing
stubble and his wet hair won’t lift

for the next frame. Where are
the frames anyway? Where, when people collide,

are the coloured stars, the ragged
RRRING of the telephone?

He spits ice in the glass. He can smell
adventures out there: smugglers doubling

as drag queens, treasure under the old pier
but he’s stopped too long. He’s lost

the maps and tonight for one last time Haddock,
cranky, devoted Haddock, will drink

himself to sleep aboard his ship.

THE AMAZING TINTIN

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère