nachts

nachts

aufwachen

nachts

leise tritt

die einsamkeit

über die ufer

kein saxophon,

mein herz schlägt

in einen schwarzen raum,

verstrahlt

die federn

der toten engel

legen sich auf

mein gesicht

ich kann

nicht

mit dir

telefonieren

what do you see

lies

lies

is it revolution

if i don’t want to talk?

is it the language of madness

if I just want to listen to a voice

but not to hear the words?

is it bourgeouis

if I want a hand

to hold

and an arm

to rest?

is it immoral

if I don’t want

to do

anything

at all?

i know

we are here to

communicate

i hate the word

it starts with the church

continues with politics

proceeds into the

world wide web,

there

eaten by spiders

I guess

there is always

somebody

who

defines

communication

i have done so much

i have talked so much

i tried

to

communicate

but what has it taught me

where did I go from there

and why

i am a liar,

i already talked too much

Loss

Loss

I went on

and on,

busy as a bee,

senseless.

I forgot to mourn

I went on

but I cannot.

I stop

and there is:

I don’t know.

I went to her grave.

She said:

Why don’t you stay

just a bit longer

I was frightened

but

I turned back

and stayed

just a bit longer

Then I left.

Life is not the same

now

but as before

the ground moves

all

the

time