Presenterar härmed, för första gången, ett självporträtt. Som kommer vara kvar. som kommer få stanna.
Från midsommar. Kvällen nån gång. Here it is:
He didn’t know why, for instance,
but when he flew at altitudes less
than half his wingspan above the water,
he could stay in the air longer, with
less effort.
His glides ended not with the usual
feet-down splash into the sea,
but with a long flat wake as he touched
the surface with his feet tightly streamlined
against his body.
When he began sliding in to feet-up
landings on the beach, then pacing
the length of his slide in the sand,
his parents were very much dismayed indeed.
“Why, Jon, why?” his mother asked.
“Why is it so hard to be like
the rest of the flock, Jon?
Why can’t you leave low flying to the
pelicans, the albatross?
Why don’t you eat? Son,
you’re bone and feathers!”
“I don’t mind being bone and feathers mom.
I just want to know what I can do in the air
and what I can’t, that’s all. I just want to know.”
Ja!
Jag är fri att göra precis vad jag vill. Jag har inget band. Inget stängsel. Inget koppel.
Jag har bara öppna vägar. Oändligt antal val.
Framåt, Bakåt. Vänster, Höger.
Nån som vill åka och bada?
“a mans best trick to hide his studidity is to wear a suit.”
En fin målning.