SHOWING AND TRIPPING Poem by Anne Vegter

It takes intense bliss in this dress to look at neighbours stashing
their rubbish bag in a container around midnight with tenderness.

It takes intense bliss in this dress to flag down a taxi unwilling
to take you to the edge of the city where broad-leaved trees propagate.

It takes intense bliss in this dress to make a sound that drowns out
animals to catch the attention of a dolled-up queen.

It takes intense bliss for this dress to be carried to a show drunk
and wide awake, blindly find the door through which to exit the stage.

It takes intense bliss in this dress to pop one, go on a balloon ride
and look down on the mosaic of your country like a slow astronaut.

It takes intense bliss in this glorious weather to be killed with care.
Voices scream instead of dress say shroud.