Karlaplan

Ljusen blinkar ned till mörket.


Hästarna har flyttat,


och vagnshjulen,


högtalarens knivar


medvind-


Tiffany och hennes papegoja


promenerar osynliga bredvid


August, långt bort mot


Karlaplan.


Vita bokstäver och en krycka


ingravade på tenn,


Pojken som älskade


planeten,


Första och sista


lärjungen


Vandrar, utfrusen, genom den svarta


öknen –


ute på stan.


-K,H, 5:e Mars, 2021

 

Church bells are a ubiquitous sound in Stockholm. The steeples of churchs are prominant because there were, for many years, laws that forbade the building of anything taller. These are from a church in Östermalm, near Karlaplan.

 

Late one night after working until closing time in the studios at Royal College of Music, I made a dérive, and tried my hand at poetry in Swedish. Although my Swedish is not good enough to write a doctoral thesis with, I felt called to make some homage to August Strindberg. One of Strindberg's books, Ensam, is one of the greatest works of Stockholm psychogeography.1 As I wrote, I took photos.This is an illustration of the kind of dérive I have taken throughout the course of this project.

(Translation:

The lights flicker down into darkness.

the horses have moved,

and the wagon wheel,

the speakers knife a

headwind –

Tiffany and her parakeets

walk, invisible, beside

August, far off towards

Karlaplan.

White letters and a cane

engraved in tin,

the Boy who loved the

Planet,

First and last

Disciple

Wanders, frozen out, through the black

dessert –

out on the town.)