Zywa Men

At night we scream, sleeping afraid
of tentacles between the sheets

we wake up from thunder rolls
and the rattling of the windows

we listen to the barking dogs
until we disappear unnoticed

into the arms of our cuddly toy
but in the morning the sun shines

then

we all run out
and are happy all day

in the sun and crusts of mud
on our bodies and limbs: Sack Men –

we stink of beans
suffocate the enemy

in the smell, cry him to the bottom
of the sacks, shakily afraid

we beat the drum, chase away the snakes
fight the milling arms

of mighty giants, legions
of sheep and dangerous generals

until at home we empty the sacks
over the fire and the animals

howl and wriggle
but they cannot catch us

Poem 1012
Amsterdam, 2017-02-13
Collection: BloodTrunk 
Keyword: Manly 
Dedicated to: Patrick vC 

Zywa
Dedicated to
Patrick vC
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