Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jacob Groot

HER LEGS

Missing body: I am you
in your fields when I put on
your clothes to undress you: I don’t
know you but my crotch unzips
you and I hammer you

into my nuts on the trembling
of your lips, flash of sheaves, the
shot illumined, you shake them a little to soap
up the cattle, in the same grasp
given the cream of your

trees, quite spacious, the jewel
from which your golden tresses, their blessings, wish to
take your legs. Utterly forsaken
body: I neither vein your handiwork nor drill you
further but still I won’t leave

you in the lurch. Yet your concerns are
so far from mine that how you clearly hide your true nature
steels me. For I hit you hard: with
the means: to the end of killing you though
you feel nothing

HAAR BENEN

HAAR BENEN

Ontbrekend lichaam: ik ben je
in je velden als ik je kleren
aantrek om je te ontbloten: ik ken
je niet maar m’n zak ritst
je open & ik timmer je

in m’n kloten op het trillen
van je lippen, flits der schoven, de
shotverlichte, je schudt ze even om het vee
mee in te zepen, in dezelfde greep
gegeven de room van je

bomen, ruim bemeten, het juweel
waaruit je gouden regens, hun zegen, je benen
willen nemen. Totaal verloren
lichaam: ik ader je handwerk noch ik naai je
nader maar ik laat je toch

niet in de steek. Echter ben je zo ver
van m’n bed dat hoe je klaar verbergt je ware aard
me sterkt. Want ik sla je hard: met
het middel: om het doel je te killen al
voel je niets
Close

HER LEGS

Missing body: I am you
in your fields when I put on
your clothes to undress you: I don’t
know you but my crotch unzips
you and I hammer you

into my nuts on the trembling
of your lips, flash of sheaves, the
shot illumined, you shake them a little to soap
up the cattle, in the same grasp
given the cream of your

trees, quite spacious, the jewel
from which your golden tresses, their blessings, wish to
take your legs. Utterly forsaken
body: I neither vein your handiwork nor drill you
further but still I won’t leave

you in the lurch. Yet your concerns are
so far from mine that how you clearly hide your true nature
steels me. For I hit you hard: with
the means: to the end of killing you though
you feel nothing

HER LEGS

Missing body: I am you
in your fields when I put on
your clothes to undress you: I don’t
know you but my crotch unzips
you and I hammer you

into my nuts on the trembling
of your lips, flash of sheaves, the
shot illumined, you shake them a little to soap
up the cattle, in the same grasp
given the cream of your

trees, quite spacious, the jewel
from which your golden tresses, their blessings, wish to
take your legs. Utterly forsaken
body: I neither vein your handiwork nor drill you
further but still I won’t leave

you in the lurch. Yet your concerns are
so far from mine that how you clearly hide your true nature
steels me. For I hit you hard: with
the means: to the end of killing you though
you feel nothing
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