twelve switches
one angry man
two-pin bowling
three-gallon hat
four muses
fivesome reel
six deadly sins
seven and half-a-dozen
eight o'clock shadow
nine-letter word
ten-line whip
eleven-seater
twelve-armed bandit
once and again
her head at rest
this glorious face
lips generous with joy
which I look at while
ships whose captains are drunk
navigate night and fog somewhere
unfamiliar nothing's more peaceful
a horn blares in the morning
before the alarm-clock has stirred us
her head at rest
this glorious face
dissolves as the eyes blink
open the lips part
which I don't look at while
ships whose captains are sober
navigate a sunny day somewhere
familiar war breaks out
nothing more than
jammed chewing gum
machines in tower blocks
and twice a day juicy fruit
gathered nothing more
than far away a long time ago
behind the gym hall getting
a haircut for the school party
stashing sparkling wine so as to sleep
in the snow (by the pretty ones
to be kissed awake) nothing more
than life-stories tramped at night
on the expressway back to the outskirts
at fast-forward heated until
the next morning again cooled
down so as to be woken up
sweating nothing more
than far away a long time ago
at the Rosensee worms pulled
onto barbs much too big
sitting outside the tent small perch
with mouths too big the tobacco ran
out peppermint tea had to do
the bird-clock. sunrise 04.30. mid-may.
03.00 (redstart): the story of your father
is buried deep in the earth.
03.10 (robin): this earth will be shovelled out of you.
03.15 (blackbird): everyone you have ever loved has gone
to the place where they no longer are.
03.20 (wren): and the flashlights that dazzle
your eyes momentarily are all grinning.
03.30 (cuckoo): and the dear little stars are
humming wecannotwecannotwecannotgiveyouit –
03.40 (great tit): behind the storm is a storm.
03.50 (chiffchaff): behind the star is a star.
04.00 (chaffinch): I walk through my city and it’s
not my city I’m walking through.
04.20 (house sparrow): I think of myself and it’s
not me that’s thinking of myself.
04.40 (starling): the winter which makes my bed for the sleep
in which I bed down to sleep.
a certain degree of brightness signals to birds when to awaken. this
degree of brightness can be so precisely determined that
in the early part of the year one can set one’s alarm by a songbird’s call.
the lucidity of insane talking dolls
insane talking dolls that when switched on say
you must switch me on
and when switched off say
you must switch me on
i’m amazed by the moths which at night
in their hundreds despite the downpour
flutter around the street-lights
insane talking dolls that when switched on say
you must switch me off
and when switched off say
you must switch me off
i despise by the moths which at night
in their hundreds despite the downpour
flutter around the street-lights
the hair creepy-crawlies
for jonathan meese
the ears whelks
the forehead a great sheet of copper
the eyebrows viaducts
the eyes spinning cycle wheels
the nose a tangle of snakes
the mouth a pothole
the chin a bowl of white porcellain
arms legs trunk sex
patches strewn on the floor the heart
a pulsating firework
unaffordable poem
this poem was
worked on for
100 years it cost
twelve million dollar
metropolis eichendorff
out of an olden german tree
an olden german leaf fell down
flew from an olden german dream
upon an olden german town
spring
sprimmer
sprill
sprinter
summing
summer
summell
sumter
falling
falmer
fall
falter
wining
winmer
winall
winter
(Translated by Ken Cockburn)
Ten Haikisses
Ten haikisses! Sharp
Strike at rows of teeth right through
Separate laughmuscles.
Chains from chain-stitches.
Make shirts from that: shirts of mail.
Wear them? Nah. Rubbish.
Eat in Eton.
Shite in Strathaven.
Tons o travellin.
Peterkin´s death trip.
On the merry-go-chain-round
From yestermorning.
Sylvester ist through.
Rain for three days. Big bangers
Or only dogshit?
Shirts and arms for shirts.
Isn´t it like a stuck pig
Armholy downer.
It is all backdrop.
Laughter. Gateau. Schnapps. Against
Brickwallcovering.
Danger of mayhem.
Champagnershortage. Suddenly
No tie required here.
Pizzakakingsheet.
With extremely soft unction.
Malt beer for you, sir?
WELCOME. Just one word
In poppyred blackletter
Scrawled on the tampax.
(Translated by Edwin Morgan)