DOROTHEENSTÄDTISCHER FRIEDHOF Caught in the rain halfway home, I take my last drop of Pils, slip under the Gothic arch, And take the watery-bright pathway. Its bright, even though its 4 a.m. Its dawn already. Already the sky has hung its pale-blue garlands. And the tombstones wrestle with jellyfish and almonds. The grass slathers its wakes in poisonous laughter. And the wind is a herd of shaggy boars. Theres a gasoline taste on my tongue. And I still dont know what ominous ship or sun Or bruised apple got me here. But sometimes I think all I left behind shines in red and gold. And sometimes I think Ill be alive here forever. With the Pharisees and derilict flowers That weep for a grasshoppers desecrated tambourine. With Hegels broken skull torn open by pantomimic interludes and moles. And the churchbells anoint themselves in pigeons blood. And the Indian shrimp farmers who are my brothers, and the sugarcane. And a ragged nightengales lovesong poking through the rain.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Aug 2014 05:33:13 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015