He put her back in her body, and then he noticed the arrested brilliance of the blackbird’s eye | He noticed the birch trees retreating in order, gathering their woods: the calm verticals of the white trunks, eventually you would get | to Scandinavia | The pots on the stove | bristled with the heat | the sauces thickened, he began | to take her out of her body again | This would not lead to happiness, he knew | far from it | he didn’t care | knowledge had no meaning for him | let the little white triangles in the bay | belong to the tales of the yachts, the swell, the currents | he wasn’t a yachtsman | and anyway | perhaps some good would come of it? | The stocks and shares trembled in their graphs | everywhere people were pursuing money, let them | let them get rich while he turned her head | this way and that | let the athletes compete | and the terrorists sweat in their cars and vans in the traffic | there would be talk of tides and winds | and the lies would grow around his thighs, and further | up to his waist | like long grass, she would | stay out of her body for a while now | steam would be extruded | in fine, mushrooming fumes | from under the clinking and puttering | lids of saucepans | and all around the city | thermometers would continue to respond | to the sun’s forces | and it was okay | there would be life | people would draw their useless conclusions | and the conclusions would pile up like the pebbles on a wide, cold beach | he would put her tongue | last of all | back in her body | after the fingers | and the mute | mounds of the knees | and the sighs | everything would fit | nothing would be left out | she would return | it was good | though no good | could come of it | Into the distance, the silver birches | lined and retreated | and the radio | began speaking of the storms and the coast and the sea again | then he knew where he was going | where he would take his sorrow | north | higher, and higher, to reach | Scandinavia, eventually


from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)