Peter Verhelst ​

The cadaver’s Utopia
 
On the banks of the flowing river – evening
brings almost no respite, the bats are plentiful
this year. We lug utopia through the streets
 
on our backs. We are shadows
of animals, limbs protruding on all sides like barbs.
We fall forwards
 
and keep moving on all fours,
each with our own private utopia 
on our back like our own private nightmare,
 
bizarre tragedy,
bad joke,
great love, us
 
with our barbed, arched backs.
Parasitic utopia
gnawing at our heads from behind;


creating a new network of arteries
through the neck and spinal column to the aorta, sucking us dry,
swelling like a tick, our utopia.
 
Fury is our plumage. Keratinised as claws, fury
pulls us out of ourselves.
After which resentment lifts us above ourselves (iron beak).
After which revulsion (stinking feathers).
After which boredom drags us through grass, through mud, over hills.
After which indifference (discarded rags), squats on our
little heap of a body, utopia picking at our veins.
 
Give us a war,
not to believe in
but to give meaning to our deaths.

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Peter Verhelst (1962) is a poet, novelist and playwright based in Bruges, Belgium. He often collaborates with choreographers, musicians, film makers, painters and photographers. His collection Zabriskie was awarded with the prestigious Grand Poetry Prize 2023. He received numerous literary prizes for his poetry and his novels. He was also awarded the Constantijn Huygens Prize and the Sybren Polet Prize, two important oeuvre prizes in the Netherlands.

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