In the fire

by David Vikgren

In the fire

Just a few words for the road

a throat fortified

We have moved without for so long

But there is purpose in the pattern

softly formed in the mouth the sayings add up 

There on the wall

Text turns time into an object

It reads




Do I have to spell it out

cover the world in words my little mouth

It’s slow and gradual

A breeze at most is the voice

people on the floor

They stand wobbling a while

stretched out submerged in expiration air

around the core deploys

a shame linked together

Expression Excrement

Many names are still added to the line





it is as you say

Things are (not) in order

I said: The village Mezhador meaning The village on the edge

We spewed out

Into the darkness the voluble

an identity based populism

We just stood there crying without words

Hell is Here




Language has a backside

a made up past that unifies

The letter kills

I said: Riverrivers four flows meaning the Niger River delta

The signs pile up

promises of wholeness replace social justice

Just like this maybe it wasn’t here

but the first sign of war was an altered use of language

To speak was like lying on your back in the fire




Do I have to spell it out

the narrator makes it vivid

striving to regain the original form

Things are (not) what they ought to be

I said: Meänkieli meaning Auver laangwitjch

They speak think make signs completely different

The voices comes and goes


Vibrations torn up by tears




Happiness leads nowhere

Spell it out

the name is fictitious for we are many in that mouth

It is because now it vanishes

I said: Voice is crease meaning Consolation is lost

We must go here there to where we already are

the forest between the tree trunks

It’s spelled the way it sounds

© David Vikgren