Caravan Site
Those cubed houses in Rotterdam with concrete
trunks, each of them holding in place a tipped dice.
Built like a forest, but they never did look like a forest
did they?
On our wedding my brother joked you’ve got this
planned down to the second… it rained all the way through,
we almost cancelled, the folded chairs lined up like stolen
answers. We went ahead to sit very still for another ten years.
Even if we separate, we should do the loft:
Sitting with walls, a window, a kitchen
double the size of us looking out
in different directions.
One morning the washing machine
is missing. The day after, the curtains are gone.
By the third evening everything is back to being
the wrong way round.
The empty house plays another trick on me.
The kids too old now to notice, he doesn’t either.
I feed echoes to a wall of plastic.
Constantly in the same place, then not.
Nicole Janz is a British-German writer who lives in England, UK. She is about to complete her MSt in Creative Writing at the University of Cambridge.