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The Carer

by Robert Frede Kenter

You see clothes

Take on different shapes

The body


The layers

I will enter

The roulette wheel of the sun

Spin in the gambler’s

Quadrants. We eat at midnight.

Take risks.

There is no more perfect evening.

A sandstorm. In the gentle

Balance of your movements

In sleep. What does memory

Create? A little solitude,

More smiling. To not leave

Your side. Then the

Inner dialogue. The dream

Roller-coaster, To the train that

Travels in-patient’s anxious

Imaginaries. Picks up the impatient.

Bundling forth in pastel

A new portfolio of oxygen, bindings

Of rhododendron flowers.

You know

How to

Hurt you know

How to wound.

The Carer is a response to the 'idea' of Sacrifice - from caring to mythologies to family & social order/strictures & ruptures of norms and conformities they rub against each other, ache, form a larger prismatic lens, a visual terrain in words, radiant-fire, i often write about pain, trauma, sacrifice, dysfunction & a lineage of radical/visceral hope that cuts through, that usurps calm surfaces and authoritarian structures, whether internal or exterior.

- Robert Frede Kenter


About the writer:

Robert Frede Kenter is a writer, visual artist and the EIC of IceFloe Press. His poem, The Carer features in Erato's second issue, Sacrifice


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