Gustaf Munch-Petersen: Naked Human
- you can hear it along the street
and down at the quay:
that the fishermen dance at the inn –
- and lord my god, how they dance
like large petroleum motors
and barrels on their way down the stairs,
it is sturdy legs which pound,
so the girls sweat with happiness,
how strong and handsome he is,
and then he gets fish and money.
when she carefully presses with her thigh
she hears the tinkle of silver,
and a red-bearded, horned hand,
it squeezes and pinches and searches –
and the swarm rolls along the floor
and the boards rock like decks –
- the violins rub and squeal.
the musicians’ glasses, they’re empty.
but the beers bubble and splash
and run in brown throats
so the adam’s apples jump
and the legs tread along the rhythm.
for the fishermen dance at the inn
so the sweat ooze and trickle,
and eyes and bodies meet,
while the swarm rolls along the floor
and the boards rock like decks –