Filth
I wake up with massive wood,
see your pillow, hard
from semen, salt, and waste
my morning cherishing stains.
Then I turn our past around,
soften up and stumble
to the bathroom you cleaned,
with shower-heads now big enough.
Focus for a tiny bit, jerk off,
to watch most of it vanish as well.
I look for meaning, meaning now.
Shaving might for just a sec.
Lacking skin for deep enough,
I cut away all shallow, clean
fresh and bloody reasoning.
Leaving one stuck to the sink.
This filth, in shorts you washed
drinks his coffee black
out of a mug that moved along
us keeping my scarred chin up
and can still read your lips.
Benne van der Velde is a poet, bad playwright, former rapper/average singer and more. Always needing more. After thoroughly enjoying the Dutch slam poetry scene in the early and mid 2000s (wins in 7 cities + eventually a place in the Nationals of 2012) and performances at the Lowlands- and Parade festivals a/o, Benne successfully made the transition from the stage to paper by signing his first publishing deal etc, etc, etc.
About ‘Filth’: the original version, written in the poets native language, got published in his second official volume of poetry, titled ‘Dit harnas van kippenvel’ and an issue of the literary magazine Tzum (2005)