Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Zoe Skoulding

Gull Song

Gull Song

Gull Song

we come into the vacuum where the city was and we become
the vacuum you can hear your hunger speaking in our noise
and you can hear your hunger for the sea where you
came in like us and now we want your flat roof and your sandwich we want the whole of the sea and the brooding clouds our cries cut through your dropped ice cream and your almost
empty bag we come with necks like monuments to nothing
we come with eyes as cold as spreadsheets there is no warmth
in our endless whiteness just the grey shadow of possession
wherever you are you can hear us we came in with the herring
and stayed we came further in gathering your waste in our
plastic beaks we are rhythm distributed in space we’re
stamping on the ground to make the rain come the worm rise
we see a hand move to a mouth we come closer you see us
we back off we live in your debt in the wreck of your greed
we scavenge in the turned tide of lunch we come nesting
who cares where we lay as long as there’s a ledge or the
edge of a cathedral roof we are just too much and we live in
the too much of the takeaway the too many kebabs and chips
we dance with your too many leftovers we are leftovers too
with prehistoric feathers look at our eyes you are under
our surveillance our cries drown out your voices look at us
look at us hanging on look at us we almost love you
Close

Gull Song

we come into the vacuum where the city was and we become
the vacuum you can hear your hunger speaking in our noise
and you can hear your hunger for the sea where you
came in like us and now we want your flat roof and your sandwich we want the whole of the sea and the brooding clouds our cries cut through your dropped ice cream and your almost
empty bag we come with necks like monuments to nothing
we come with eyes as cold as spreadsheets there is no warmth
in our endless whiteness just the grey shadow of possession
wherever you are you can hear us we came in with the herring
and stayed we came further in gathering your waste in our
plastic beaks we are rhythm distributed in space we’re
stamping on the ground to make the rain come the worm rise
we see a hand move to a mouth we come closer you see us
we back off we live in your debt in the wreck of your greed
we scavenge in the turned tide of lunch we come nesting
who cares where we lay as long as there’s a ledge or the
edge of a cathedral roof we are just too much and we live in
the too much of the takeaway the too many kebabs and chips
we dance with your too many leftovers we are leftovers too
with prehistoric feathers look at our eyes you are under
our surveillance our cries drown out your voices look at us
look at us hanging on look at us we almost love you

Gull Song

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère