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C.N.P Poetry 


By: Hans Lucht


This forest is haunted by you

your long white body on the bed

the muddy fields’ brown 

patches in the plane’s oval window 

like a patchwork quilt the giants 

threw away as they walked on by

A movie reel suddenly starts running 

with a sound like a rattle, rich 

yellow light flows from 

the one bedroom, coffee’s on the pot

a raw draft flows like a liquid 

along the panels, report from the grey 

world, it begins again with every 

single page you turn in the 

comic book, every Depeche Mode song

every stinging line of speed

Every stupid horror movie you watch 

with your boyfriend in the theater 

Isn’t it strange how you forget 

people until you suddenly see them 

in the subway? That when the pain 

subsides pleasure takes its place? My keys 

are gone, your name is gone 

but not your quick steps on the stairs



I never answer when they knock

on the door after midnight

I like the mornings best, just sitting 

at the roadside, drinking coffee

going over today’s agenda with Sammy

listening to snippets of interviews

trying hard to forget the little bloody

face through their legs, the boy

that lay dead in the street outside our hotel

We walked by silently, ashamed

people stood over him smoking and talking

The death of a child is an element that 

emits so much radiation everything else dies


We’re doing well, but happiness is bored so easily

it says what happens now? The little fights you lose anyway

the dumbbells’ clank, clank, clank, gray clouds gather

over Vesterport as if they too admire great physical strength

the deeper meaning of life walks by with begging eyes

sale on protein drinks with blueberry flavor, a cold bucket of water

in the face, the almost unimaginable irony of the treadmill

the days’ whispers, the days’ tenderness, the days’ je ne nais sais quoi

dreamed I was raking in gold nuggets with both arms

say what you want but greed is so pure and artificial intelligence 

is still better than no intelligence, I know two things for sure

the owl’s eyes is the most beautiful thing in the world 

and the heart’s equation never adds up, we just owe more and more


Hans Lucht is a writer and anthropologist working in Danish and English. His ethnography, Darkness before Daybreak was awarded the 2012 Elliott P. Skinner Book Award from the Association for Africanist Anthropology. Lucht has received writing grants from the Danish Arts Council and the Danish Arts Foundation. Lucht is also a writer for the computer game franchise Hitman. The poems belong to a larger work titled SHINING TRAIN. Recent poems have appeared in The Scores, Interim, and Cathexis among others.


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