(book page, paper, tissue paper, vellum paper, piece of duck mussel shell, linen thread, acrylic paint, permanent marker)
 

A poetry matchbox this time. Today I'm going to break my rules and share something I normally wouldn't, (thanks to the encouragement and inspiration I got from Kirsten). Some of you already know I write poetry, but I've never shown any of my real writings here, just some silly cut-up poetry I've made for the matchbox project. Well, this one is actually cut-up too, but not in the same sense. I've included a quick, almost word for word translation here too. I'm sure Google would've done almost as good a job as I did translating this one, but if it's any consolation, I guess doesn't make much sense in Finnish either. (And this matchbox can be found here in a minute or two.)

---

ekshibitionistien sukuhaara
jalat enemmän tai vähemmän tarkasti tuolin alle aseteltuina
ihmiset korostavat epäinhimillisiä piirteitään eniten
ihmiset korostavat piirteitään
levitän sääriä ja kieli naksahtaa kellona

just in case we'll never meet again
katsot linssin läpi väärin

 

(unikot poikkeavat suunnitelmasta) puisto on puutarha
on hameenhelmasi täynnä silmiä on sumunkostea tukka naamalla
suut takertuvat, perintötekijöiden merikäärmeet
kun sokeriin esteröityy fosforihappo

/

en pääse yli ajatuksesta, että asennot ylhäältä käsin määrätään
kasvoillanne on liian monta kerrosta

katsot väärän linssin läpi, epätarkka suunpunainen liikkuu ääneti
juomalasit särkyvät ikkunalaseja useammin
hajotan puolivahingossa
ajattelematta irrotan otteen ja annan pudota
keittiön kaapissa laastareiden liima vanhenee
en voi astua tarpeeksi kauas

///

riisuttaessa hame leviää lattialle kraaterina
puistosta kuuluu hiekan rahina läpi ikkunoiden
jalanjäljissä huoneesta toiseen laavaa, eksoneja, introneja
sekundaarirakenteena kaksoiskierre
pidän sinua pitelemässä minua

---

a bloodline of exhibitionists
legs arranged more or less precisely under the chair
people emphasize their inhumane features the most
people emphasize their features
I spread my legs and a tongue clicks as if it were a clock

just in case we'll never meet again
you look through the lens wrong

(poppies differ from the plan), a park is a garden
is the hem of your skirt full of eyes is your face covered in fog-wet hair
mouths cling, sea serpents of genetic factors
as phosphoric acid esterifies to sugar

/ 

I cannot get over the idea that positions are from above determined
there are too many layers on your faces

 
you look through the wrong lens, a blurry mouth-red moves silently
drinking glasses shatter more often than windows
half accidentally I break
carelessly I let go and I let slip
in the kitchen cabinet band-aids lose their grip
I cannot step far enough

///

when taken off a skirt spreads a crater on the floor
through the windows a scratching sound of sand from the park
in the footsteps, from one room to another, lava, exons, introns
helix as a secondary structure
I hold you holding me