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poems

schöne, tragical Gesichter
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
könnten wir aber zu wissen
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
das Swanbestehen
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
ich habe die stolzesten Sterne gesehen

 



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