VrijMiBo van Twintig
Sometimes I hear my name
Come up the stairs and walk
Through noises in the hall...
But sounds all seem the same
In this square room at night–
Every sound that's made
Seems to answer back,
Until I feel afraid
That chairs and tables talk
At me and want to walk–
Like noises in the hall
That slide along the wall.
My tongue grows wet and slack;
I want to answer back
At them. My lips are tight,
Tight shut... Alone at night,
I sometimes think and feel
Something of steam and steel
Prettig weekend. En be nice.
Reaguursels
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