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son poem

sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
ich bot sie aller Abschied
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
für dann außen
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
hoch-getragenes Rennen
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
erklären Sie mir
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
alle innen und alle ohne mich

 



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