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suicide poetry

ich sterbe
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
ich sah, daĂź Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
durch die rude BrĂĽcke
als ich ein Junge an der Hochschule war
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
ein Nebel fuhr unten
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
dieses ist der Song von Jugend
im September
läßt lang das Sommertageslicht glänzen

 



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