Friday, 24 October 2014

One more Thor Sørheim poem

step by step

Step by step I distanced myself from the table lamp
which was transformed into a gleaming circle down there
in the hall, and the black patent leather shoes pointed their noses
open-mouthed towards the doormat. At the top of the stairs
I had come as far up beneath the sky
as it was possible to come. The world fell into place

on the dark ceiling in the shadow of solid tiers of joists
and bent piping, as at a museum
where all the artefacts are marked with labels
that state origin, properties and how long they
have been in use. For many a long year I collected dogmatics
in stiff archive boxes, for I had forgotten

that the world is there to be misunderstood, and that people try
as best they can to act in good doubt. I suddenly yearned
back to the smell of the socks with holes in the wardrobe,
the wet raincoats hung up to dry, the gleaming elegies
of the posters. Step by step I calmly descended
with my hand firmly gripping a perplexed banister.

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