‘Stumblestone’ by David Toms

I sweep away Saturday night—
the discarded cigarette butts &
dried snus housed last night
in the gums of drunk punters

they stumbled into taxis,
or on foot, to the T-bane,
or the night bus
going home

I sweep away ash and dirt
outside Rådhusgate tjue åtte
Sunday morning—
a name stares me in the face

Max Oster, cigarette roller,
sign painter, stumbled as he was
dragged from apartment to ship
ship to train train to chamber—

From issue #8: spring/summer 2019

About the Author
David Toms is a writer from Waterford, now living and working in Norway. His poetry collections include Northly (Turas Press, 2019), Soma | Sema (Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2011), and several chapbooks. His most recent book is Pacemaker, a memoir from Banshee Press.