Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dirk van Bastelaere

SOON AT A CINEMA NEAR YOU

1) The sequel

This is where
The story ends. In his Mustang
the bomb Expert Kisses the girl
(zoom in, dolly back) And yes, they fuck
like rabbits, living hard & long,
But under the bed the ice-pick

Lurks Bloodlust

in person, Who looks out from the screen,
and In his immaculate white uniform he enters and enters
the factory, Already from afar
In his male seriousness, In the shiny, restrained sex
of his suit. The tension of his cap
Represents the power
of his pectorals (red). Everyone is thinking
of his greasy, well-oiled Thing
He now carries his girl
Outside, over the threshold
(inspiring music)

Resistance has been overcome
No doubt a friend had to lose his life,
en route We could
wander around among decors on fire,
with such Dialogues as: ‘We’ve gotta get the hell outa here’
‘We’ll never get out of this alive’
And: ‘Oh, my God, they’ve shot my husband.
I love you, Jack.’


At a certain moment you have to be open to Joy
But on the terrace (red) Of his beach house he is brooding
Behind sun glasses in which the surf rolls and
Foams On a sequel

I admit: the Pacific was never so peaceful,
On the beach, wide and empty as a studio,
I, My thumbs
tucked into my belt, stood
looking at how my being, characterised
by sheer prostration – or no, by
eyes covered with white film –
began to
get cold feet

While in the mountains a pod is being discovered

(From: The Fucked-Up Egg-Shaped Magenta-Streaked Chromium
Fantasy Machine Going Boom In The Night
)

Binnenkort in uw bioscoop

Binnenkort in uw bioscoop

1) De sequel

Dit is waar
Het verhaal eindigt. In zijn Mustang Kust
de bomexpert het meisje
(zoom in, uitrijden) En ja, ze neuken
als konijnen, leven hard & lang,
Maar onder het bed Loert

de ijspik De moordlust

in persoon, Die uit het doek kijkt,
en In zijn vlekkeloos witte uniform betreedt en betreedt hij
de fabriek, Al van verre,
In zijn mannelijke ernst, In de blanke, ingehouden seks
van zijn pak. De spanning van zijn pet
Vertegenwoordigt de kracht
van zijn borstspieren (rood). Iedereen denkt
aan zijn vette, ingeoliede Ding
Nu draagt hij zijn meisje
Naar buiten, over de drempel
(inspirerende muziek)

Er is tegenstand overwonnen
Een vriend liet ongetwijfeld het leven,
onderweg Wij mochten
tussen brandende decors rondlopen,
met Dialogen als: ‘We moeten hier zo snel mogelijk vandaan’
‘Hier komen we nooit levend uit’
En: ‘Oh, my God, they’ve  shot my husband.
I love you, Jack.’


Op zeker moment moet men openstaan voor Geluk
Maar op het terras (rood) Van zijn strandhuis broedt hij
Achter een zonnebril waarin de branding rolt en
schuimt Op een sequel

Ik weet wel: nooit was de Pacific zo vreedzaam,
Op het strand, ruim en leeg als een studio,
stond, De duimen
achter mijn broeksriem gehaakt, Ik
te kijken hoe mijn zijnde
door louter teraardewerping, of nee, door
een met wit vlies bedekte ogen
gekenmerkt koude voeten
begon te krijgen

Terwijl in de bergen een peul wordt ontdekt

(Uit: The Fucked-Up Egg-Shaped Magenta-Streaked Chromium
Fantasy Machine Going Boom In The Night)
Close

SOON AT A CINEMA NEAR YOU

1) The sequel

This is where
The story ends. In his Mustang
the bomb Expert Kisses the girl
(zoom in, dolly back) And yes, they fuck
like rabbits, living hard & long,
But under the bed the ice-pick

Lurks Bloodlust

in person, Who looks out from the screen,
and In his immaculate white uniform he enters and enters
the factory, Already from afar
In his male seriousness, In the shiny, restrained sex
of his suit. The tension of his cap
Represents the power
of his pectorals (red). Everyone is thinking
of his greasy, well-oiled Thing
He now carries his girl
Outside, over the threshold
(inspiring music)

Resistance has been overcome
No doubt a friend had to lose his life,
en route We could
wander around among decors on fire,
with such Dialogues as: ‘We’ve gotta get the hell outa here’
‘We’ll never get out of this alive’
And: ‘Oh, my God, they’ve shot my husband.
I love you, Jack.’


At a certain moment you have to be open to Joy
But on the terrace (red) Of his beach house he is brooding
Behind sun glasses in which the surf rolls and
Foams On a sequel

I admit: the Pacific was never so peaceful,
On the beach, wide and empty as a studio,
I, My thumbs
tucked into my belt, stood
looking at how my being, characterised
by sheer prostration – or no, by
eyes covered with white film –
began to
get cold feet

While in the mountains a pod is being discovered

(From: The Fucked-Up Egg-Shaped Magenta-Streaked Chromium
Fantasy Machine Going Boom In The Night
)

SOON AT A CINEMA NEAR YOU

1) The sequel

This is where
The story ends. In his Mustang
the bomb Expert Kisses the girl
(zoom in, dolly back) And yes, they fuck
like rabbits, living hard & long,
But under the bed the ice-pick

Lurks Bloodlust

in person, Who looks out from the screen,
and In his immaculate white uniform he enters and enters
the factory, Already from afar
In his male seriousness, In the shiny, restrained sex
of his suit. The tension of his cap
Represents the power
of his pectorals (red). Everyone is thinking
of his greasy, well-oiled Thing
He now carries his girl
Outside, over the threshold
(inspiring music)

Resistance has been overcome
No doubt a friend had to lose his life,
en route We could
wander around among decors on fire,
with such Dialogues as: ‘We’ve gotta get the hell outa here’
‘We’ll never get out of this alive’
And: ‘Oh, my God, they’ve shot my husband.
I love you, Jack.’


At a certain moment you have to be open to Joy
But on the terrace (red) Of his beach house he is brooding
Behind sun glasses in which the surf rolls and
Foams On a sequel

I admit: the Pacific was never so peaceful,
On the beach, wide and empty as a studio,
I, My thumbs
tucked into my belt, stood
looking at how my being, characterised
by sheer prostration – or no, by
eyes covered with white film –
began to
get cold feet

While in the mountains a pod is being discovered

(From: The Fucked-Up Egg-Shaped Magenta-Streaked Chromium
Fantasy Machine Going Boom In The Night
)
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