On the beach in front of the town
the grey sky thudded onto
the water and a fine drizzle
blew us into the face

This was about the moment
when the waterfalls in Norway
began the thunder again

The price in return for it
was the sunlight,
it seemed so

Thereupon we drove until
no more seagulls were to see and
up to we didn’t know anymore,
in which town we have been

»Alexander L. Kielland«?
Died: one hundred and twenty-three,
on a Thursday eve’

The shrimps by the way
rotted forgotten
in their pouch