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son poem

die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
wie das Glätten fällt
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
wenn ich zurĂĽck zu Masse gehe
noch dreizehn Jahre
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
BlĂĽten der Babys
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
dunkelstes, merkwĂĽrdigstes Geheimnis
nie in meinem ganzem Leben
es gibt drei Möglichkeiten, in denen Männer nehmen
vor tausend leisen Jahren
weich als das Bett in der Masse

 



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