The Liverpool chronicles

Went to Liverpool for a job interview. Going abroad for job interviews is very existential. I think the interview went well. I think someone else has gotten the job (since they were going to call me the next afternoon if etcetera). While I was there, and suffering from various kinds of existential crises, I wrote some bad poetry. I also wrote a letter to myself, but it's sort of only for my eyes.



Liverpool 11 Oct.

... og mest av alt
er det godt det er over
og gjort
og godt, skjønner jeg, plutselig,
å ha lagt Southampton bak seg.

Ringer jeg T
på lørdag?
eller mail
eller
hva?
cummings-diktet
inneholder love
og må sløyfes.

med ett
følte jeg meg
som en dame i en
Nora Roberts-bok
som tviler på kjærligheten.

I'll probably not get it.
Stress ned.
Lønn hadde vært bra. Faen også.



L:pool 12. Oct.

It is what it is
A day left in the balance.
Yes or no,
her or there,
not knowing
is quite ok
for now
(though keeping busy. Passing time
really - more than proper
sightseeing).
It's two p.m.
By four I'll be very
apprehensive
By six I'll know
By ten adjusted
(well, some)
when the parents come
I reckon.
I'll not get it. Actually.
But who knows.
I'll know by six
In limbo
for four hours.
In limbo, workwise.

... og så tror jeg jeg får den.

Glemte å spørre om de ringer
alle. I tilfelle osv.
Ringer hun ikke i ettermiddag
vet jeg i alle fall
rimelig sikkert
at jeg ikke får.
Ja.
Men tenk om.
Ville de kalt meg
fra Sverige
om jeg ikke var
interessant?
Men hvor interessant?

En øl, en øl for å våge
ta noen sjanser.
Søke og bli kalt
til intervjuet
jo.


I'm thinking: you like me. Yes, you do.
So - how long before
I'm not desperate? (before I call)
Do I care, that's something else.
What about your timing, my timing.
The pace.
Plunge
I'll plunge in
Forsake all others
and everything.
Bring you along.
Meet the family.
Marie got it wrong,
P would never ruin an impression
You're too tolerant and curious for that.
I wonder -
who would you not like?
It's Wednesday
I haven't seen you since
just 72 long hectic hours
And what if I get the job,
dear
What if I don't
Marry me and bear me children


14th October, Airport

They are deceptive, those things.
That are familiar
but really not
the nuances you
Just Don't Get

More so
than those things you know
are foreign.
They are weird or interesting
or exotic
and make you question why
either they or you do things you do
Those almost-things
Are only weird &
Make you feel unsettled.

It's in the language
I guess
When you know it
but not quite.

I wasn't aware
just how comfortable
I'd got.


14th October (me very hungry)

I am consumed
with thoughts of you
Immersing myself
in common daydream
The side effects are
shortness of breath
slight
despair
hope mixed with it.
Have I ever?
Has it ever been?
I could marry you tomorrow & our children would be
musical
clever
cherished.
Am I wrong?
Has the recognition been one-sided
Am i alone here
and you with another agenda
of common male indecision
and cowardness?
I despair. And hope.
And don't know how to proceed.





Short afterword: See, I told you it was bad. No, I'm not seriously considering marriage. I'm seriously considering a third date. If I can get it together. Call me, call me, call me... desperation is so attractive.... yeah.