Weak creatures can defer their needs.
Elisabeth has to be done with hers first.
Elisabeth will never be done with hers.
Elisabeth was never at Ballehage Beach either.
The sand was untidy, but
Dad and Minna could dive.
Minna’s not weak.
Minna won’t!
The traffic roars around Minna.
The traffic’s unsafe.
Minna turns past Det Røde Palæ.
Minna bikes and taps.
Minna taps, I’m just on my bike.
Elisabeth orders her to call anyway.
Minna turns off her cell.
Minna drops the cell into her bag.
The bag trembles in the bike basket.
Minna trembles on the bike, but
Paper sonatas don’t write themselves.
The quay oozes female students.
The police officers are back in Karen Blixen.
The officers stand smoking on the quay.
The officers keep an eagle eye on the students.
The students don’t see the officers.
The students cast their hair about.
Their hair flips from side to side.
The students get to their feet.
The officers get to their feet.
The students’ legs grow long.
The officers’ pants have pockets.
The officers tug at their pockets.
The officers camouflage their sperm-filled bits.
Minna and Jette sit sans camouflage in the midst of it all.
Jette’s eyes are insistent.
Minna has a hard time relaxing.
The legs biking.
The arms warding off blows.
The body full of vim.
The soul supposed to sit still.
It ain’t easy.
Jette notices that sort of thing.
Jette says, You seem stressed out.
Minna replies, I’ve got a little too much going on.
Jette says, Tell, tell!
Minna says, Oh, you know …
Jette says, You shouldn’t walk around keeping everything bottled up.
Minna says, The paper sonata’s bumping along.
Minna says that she’ll buy a keyboard.
Jette thinks she could just use her Mac.
Macs have a program for composers.
Macs are easy to figure out.
Minna doesn’t want to say that she can’t figure them out.
Minna doesn’t want to satisfy Jette’s need to know better.
Minna says, It’s my sister, that’s all.
Minna points at the mermaid on the quay.
The mermaid by the Royal Library is more appealing than Langelinie’s.
The mermaid by the Royal Library is anything but charming.
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.