Zywa Well, dying

Well, I may drown
freeze to death overnight
under a tree, just

grow numb or be lucky
and get a place
to sleep in the shelter

under the hundred beds blanket
with a head hole for each
comfortably warm together

But even then, this morning
my neighbour didn't wake up
at the first, second and third gong

Floundering he went up
when the blanket was hoisted
Under the beams he hung still

a skinny body -- we watched
and for a half we each fenched
an incense stick

Poem 1094
Amsterdam, 2017-03-01

The night shelter in Hangzhou (Jan Slauerhoff)
Poem "Het nachtasyl te Hang Tsjow" (collection "Yoeng Poe Tsjoeng")
Hang Tsjow = Hangzhou

Collection: WoofWoof 
Keyword: Fate 
Tribute to: Slauerhoff, Jan 
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