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suicide poem

schön
warum
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stürzen
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
königliches Fest war erfolgt
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
die Wiese kroch
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurückkam
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
ich habe die Welt geworfen

 



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