the mouth is so ridiculous

 

it’s way too important

to me, like a hole

among all the leaves

it’s a project

to me

 

 

 

I want high blood

 

or I want the blood

to be high up there

 

 

 

imagine standing ovations

 

that span over

an entire life

look what the cat dragged in

an entire life

it can be minimalism

this is burning

 

 

 

I’ve heard

 

that there are schools

that are more neurotic

than other schools

 

 

 

furnishing, as defect

 

a large white light

nothing more

turn on that light

nothing else

 

 

 

two squeamish people

 

were found locked

in a secret basement

police followed tears

to the stairwell

 

 

 

I have never followed my own path

 

when I was a child I probably loved

4-5 fountains in Stockholm

it was, of course, unsustainable

but I really believe in fate

 

 

 

it was Sunday

 

so you could steal

marble if you

saw marble

you panicked

 

 

 

the apathetic children

 

shot the prime minister

children and cancer

belong together, keenly

 

 

 

2020 Met Gala

 

I always forget that

the crown of thorns

is a tool of torture

not because it looks

good but despite

torture tools are

as a rule very pretty

 

 

 

such as silk and knives

 

for the eyes

in time

throw me out

on the ice

 

 

 

poem

 

MOTHER WRITES

ABOUT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LILACS EVER

SHE WRITES: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LILACS EVER

SHE HAS STAYED ALL NIGHT IN THE FOREST

WITH A LOT OF CHILDREN

SHE HAS STAYED OVERNIGHT

WITH A CRITICAL MASS OF CHILDREN

 

 

 

the movie Coco disappointed me

 

far too easy to be dead

 

 

Elis Monteverde Burrau is a Swedish poet (and aspiring crooner) who sometimes writes novels (sometimes = two times, he will never do it again). He lives in Stockholm with his wife, Militza. He’s never lived anywhere else.

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