the quay is empty now,
the stage where you stood in the light around you
while waving with many gulls.
water, wind, waves, all weave
the same words, over and over
fading slowly into the distance.
how long will they last, these words,
before they turn into
shrieks of seabirds.
KHOP Möricke is just living along in the Netherlands. In 2012, KHOP published a book titled 50 easy pieces.
Ever since man walked the earth these things have remained the same: the sea, the clouds, the winds, the sun, the moon. The cold, the heat, the rain. The days, the running years, the hunger, the thirst, the you, the me. And the cutting edge of a really sharp knife.
KHOP Möricke is just living along in the Netherlands. In 2012, KHOP published a book titled 50 easy pieces.
The snow-white blossoming apple tree lured her out. Behind her squeaked the kitchen door. Too late now. Her hands began to tremble. She didn’t turn, she kept her eyes fixed on the blossom. To be a small bird in spring, she thought, darting around, singing, no worries. Too late now.
KHOP Möricke is just living along in the Netherlands. In 2012, KHOP published a book titled 50 easy pieces.
He wrote like he spoke; he spoke like he wrote. Broken poetry, page after page, day after day. See him standing now at the window, reading the clouds for signs of the homeless gods who taught him how to speak, how to write, how to house them between the lines.
KHOP Möricke wrote this story.