Scars by Marjon van Bruggen

Seventeen flat sceen plasma Tvs
(rock bottom, this week only!)
change their happy program.

I see images of the earthquake
that root me to the spot, while
people push and mingle around

and hurry, ´cause Australian wine
and English bisquits also fly
because of the rock bottom prices

you cannot let that go, be honest…
but my eyes are fixed on crumbling
houses, churches, fountains, falling

trees, and aimless running in
everpresent dust. Old men seem
to shrivel, clinging to their last

posession, a blanket, a mirror…
a dishevelled dog whines to rumble
The earth shook and left a wide scar.

Suddenly rock bottom
has another significance.

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