29 I like

 

when at the end of what you call studies

you throw together something like a dissertation

from fragments downloaded from the net

you get a degree from a college

of something and something

write a CV and attach an impressive

list of books you haven’t read

they accept you you’re ideal

for a department of logistics sales purchasing

 

in the meantime politicians historians journalists –

you haven’t even noticed there’s no difference between them

because nothing interests you as much

as a new app for your smartphone –

have a dispute over whether an uprising doomed to fail

in the middle of a populous city was useful

willy-nilly the chips reach

your always busy ears

burst the eardrums rolling during evening parades

somewhere deep inside the sirens howl seductively

 

for some time you live normally

that is the same as others

you start a family take a loan

despite the numerous disadvantages of the solution

you build a house on a housing estate out of town

if you get promoted to the department manager

you can afford to be stuck in traffic in a new SUV

but you can’t afford to lose your wretched job

two installments separate you from homelessness

 

so when the moment comes

when you have to do it

you make the sign of the cross

even though you stopped going to church a long ago

maybe God will help if not fuck it

with a cry of holyyy shiiit!!!

you die but not wholly

you leave a monument behind

or at least a commemorative plaque

blessed by a priest who loves boys

just like you

 

28 I like

 

when you’re kidding

may it be over at last

this end of the world lasts too long

the end of the world shouldn’t last

longer than creation

 

when evil fights against evil

bones crack but the outcome

is a foregone conclusion

 

what an unusual

time to be alive

an age of great extinction

 

 

 

27 I like

 

to read an interview with a film director

who after therapy closes his Facebook account

a tweet by a PhD

that vaccines kill

and broccoli heal

a confession of a woman afraid to stop

because she might miss something

a post by a blogger who now notices

his likes are changing him into a beast

a comment that once kissing was what you did

between hello and fucking

a headline about registering the brand Zyklon

for a firm’s gas ovens

 

pain

spreading through veins

autumn rain

 

 

26 I like

 

when one born in a well

has no desire to get out

in falls a sunbeam

shard of moon

bead of rain

feather of snow

echo and shadow

 

depth reaches the bottom

water of life cools the forehead

burns the stomach

drowns the sorrow

muddies the thought

 

one born in a well makes amphibian eyes

not long ago still had gills

 

on the procrustean bed

spanned between

a stimulant and a relaxant

in a place where everybody

wants to have everything for nothing

 

25 I like

 

the fact that when one dies

one doesn’t go anywhere

 

one stays in place

doesn’t move until

nothing is left

 

it grieves to part with such a great sadness

it grieves to abandon it for small joys

 

like a farm in a field

where lies a rake without a middle tooth

a tired fork leans back

against the cowshed door

a dunghill behind the barn

is specked by turquoise flies

gilded by the evening sun

 

in your eyes there stand

long-dried tears

stand in the corners as punishment

silent as dust

 

am I supposed to wish you

to live long enough

so that you can’t have a leak

 

 

24 I like

 

when a sloshed woman

leaves an all-night shop

the door squeaks with the voice of a crying child

in the empty street a grim monotony

after the holidays on a foggy evening

the smell of coal smoke

 

first love walked

with a blush on the face

from the waist up

to the waist down

 

now you knock about at night like glass

empty brittle clinking

whoever touches you will cut themselves

 

you ask where those you played hide and seek with

are buried

 

you thought she’d shield you

with her own body