Dorthe Nors - So Much for That Winter

The mermaid by the Royal Library can do somersaults.

The mermaid has just come ashore.

The quay is a rock.

The mermaid has a hold, but

The world makes it tough.

Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen made the mermaid.

Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen was kind to animals.

Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen was married to Carl Nielsen.

Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen was a great sculptor.

Carl Nielsen was a great composer.

Carl Nielsen wasn’t an easy man to be married to, says Minna.

Carl Nielsen couldn’t ignore his needs.

Carl was a firecracker.

Carl was a billy goat.

Anne Marie sculpted horses in Jutland.

Carl had ladies visit in Copenhagen.

Anne Marie’s horses got bigger and bigger.

Carl’s ladies got rifer and rifer.

Anne Marie placed herself beneath the horses.

Carl placed himself beneath the ladies.

Anne Marie had to learn to forgive.

Anne Marie had to stomach it.

The mermaid casts herself up out of the sea.

The mermaid contracts like a muscle before it explodes.

The mermaid clings to dry land, angry and insecure.

The mermaid is pure wet will.

She gasps.

She stares at the quay’s young people.

Carl Nielsen was a handsome man, says Jette.

Carl Nielsen was stumpy, says Minna.

Carl Nielsen could’ve been my lover, says Jette.

The conversation’s taken a familiar turn.

The Russian has a wife in Moscow.

The wife in Moscow doesn’t know a thing.

Minna looks at the mermaid.

The mermaid knows all.

Minna’s mother lives in Aarhus.

Minna’s from Jutland, just like Karin.

Minna’s just not from Jutland in the same way.

Minna’s from Marselisborg Forest.

Minna’s an old man’s daughter.

Minna’s a younger widow’s caboose.

Mom’s still a widow, but

Mom’s got a boyfriend.

The boyfriend’s name is Finn.

Finn and Mom go to museums.

Finn and Mom attend folk high school.

Finn and Mom each live alone.

Mom’s too old for the whole package.

Finn would otherwise be interested, but

Mom’s master in her own house.

Mom’s also good at staying in touch.

Mom’s taken a computer class at the Senior Club.

Mom’s on Facebook.

Mom’s got a blog.

Mom can text.

Elisabeth says you’re feeling poorly, she writes.

Elisabeth’s worried, she writes.

Mom’s worried too.

Minna stands in the hallway and reads.

Minna considers getting a cat.

The cat’d come stealing in from the living room.

The cat’d rub up against Minna’s leg.

The cat and Bergman, Minna thinks.

Minna collapses on the couch.

Bergman rests on the table.

Bergman’s there for the grasping.

You’ll do what’s needed, he says.

Failures can have a fresh, bitter taste, he says.

Minna lays him to her breast.

Bergman makes himself at home there.

Minna closes her eyes:

Minna can hear the cars down on the street.

Minna can hear herself drawing breath.

Bergman curls up into a ball.

Minna dozes.

Minna dreams of a house on a hill.

The yard bulges with fruit and lilacs.

Phlox, mallow, iris blossoming.

The gable wall glows with English roses.

The fjord flashes at the foot of the hill.

Minna’s seated on the patio.

The boats tack into the wind.

The henhouse has been whitewashed.

The henhouse is the rehearsal space.

The grand piano stands plumb in the middle.

Minna turns her face toward the sun.

Minna’s chest arches over her heart.

The heart is lovely in its dissolution.

The heart has weathered the storm.

Minna listens to the interior of the house.

The door’s opened and shut.

Keys are laid upon the table.

Someone’s approaching the patio door.

Lars stands there smiling.

Lars bends over his woman.

Lars caresses his woman’s belly.

The baby kicks inside.

The reaper-binder rattles outside.

The skylarks sing high in the air.

The rifle club’s meeting in the gravel pit.

The rifle club shoots clay pigeons.

The clay pigeons whiz across the landscape.

The clay pigeons are shot or shatter when they fall.

The clay pigeons fall and fall.

Minna’s wakened by a muffled thud on the floor.

It’s Bergman.

It’s Monday, Minna remembers.

It’s all just Amager, she remembers.

It’s a miracle.

Elisabeth’s visiting Minna’s apartment.

Elisabeth stands in the middle of the living room.

Elisabeth’s in stocking feet.

The face as hard as enamel.

Elisabeth’s rage is family legend.

The examples are legion:

Elisabeth removes bikes in Potato Row.

Nothing may shade the house.

Nothing may destroy the harmony of the façade.

Elisabeth doesn’t move the bikes a couple yards.

Elisabeth walks around to other streets with the bikes.

No one should think they’re safe.

Elisabeth threatens people with lawsuits and psychotic episodes.

Elisabeth drives people to numerologists, and even worse:

Elisabeth once made Mom have a breakdown over a piece of royal porcelain.

Elisabeth’s aligned the stars on her side, and now she stands in the living room:

Dust rises: Didn’t I tell you to call?

Elisabeth continues, Didn’t I tell you to come by?

Minna proffers tea.

Elisabeth sets her purse down on the coffee table.

Elisabeth’s eyes flit from the dirty laundry to Bach.

Elisabeth eyes need to shut for a bit.

Minna edges past her sister.

Minna pours calcified water into two mugs from IKEA.

Minna stuffs in the teabags.

Minna walks back to the living room.

Elisabeth has seated herself.

Minna sets a mug before her.

Elisabeth doesn’t want the tea.

The tea ought to be green, So why didn’t you call?

Minna doesn’t manage to answer.

Elisabeth cranks up the language.

The language lashes Minna.

The language is a castigation.

Minna sips her tea.

Sisters should be therefor each other, Elisabeth says.

Sisters should save each other from the muck.

Minna’s life gleams with muck, Is it that reporter?

Minna says it might be.

Elisabeth sighs.

Elisabeth reaches out for her purse.

Minna knows what’s coming: the prescription.

Elisabeth’s into Ayurvedic medicine.

Ayurvedic medicine stems from India.

Ayurvedic medicine divides people into types.

Elisabeth is fire, Elisabeth says.

Minna’s mud.

No one’s surprised.

Elisabeth’s been to the Bookstore of the Unknown.

Elisabeth’s bought a book about demons.

The demons are Indian.

The book’s dust jacket is black.

Elisabeth says that the book will provide Minna with fire.

Indian demons are good at rage.

Demons transform through destruction.

Minna watches her sister’s face: it actually opens up.

The face is a soup pot of crazy ideas.

The sister feels certain the reporter can be exorcised.

Minna will see, it’ll be a relief.

Minna looks at the book and understands.

Minna is a weak creature.

Elisabeth’s stronger.

Minna thanks her.

Minna’s a pleaser.

Elisabeth’s rage is legend in the family, but

Elisabeth’s doing better now.

Elisabeth gets up and adjusts her clothing.