A poem by Estelle Boelsma


towards parallel lines


draw lightly and slowly

a circle loop with a grey pencil ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

imagine now that your navel is the centre of all activity

it’s quite withdrawn

take even steps towards parallel lines

accumulating air

flowing through the thorax

spitting vowels and consonants

drowning in the larynx


we have done this many years

roaming rooms

robins link our hikes –

from lingering messes to

pavements cobblestones

cities, skylines, skywalks

underground veins –


a bee sting

a group of homeless hives

seeking distances amongst societies


he told me there is music in a traffic jam

From: Estelle Boelsma: alles is een onderbreking van de lege ruimte (Stanza, 2016). The series of poems ‘study for a disfigured circle’, of which this is the first poem, is also seperately published  in 100 copies by APOREIA (2016).