juli 14, 2015
Late evening, pensively I linger
Beneath the mild-lit chandelier
He says to me, why you are not happy?
I say, boy, you do not understand.
No, but please tell me, he continues,
Why do you feed your sadness fame?
So I tell him, beneath the mild-lit chandelier,
Because some joys thrive best in pain.
From Where Pain Thrives
Portrait by Tobias M. Kraft
I am only in possession of three holes
yet these three holes are
already occupied, already whole:
My ass hole through which words rise;
my mouth hole in which words die;
and my vagina, which is still on strike.
Viel glück deiner wurst,
Tivoli is closed!
I gave him a letter.
I wrote him a dozen poems.
I placed a blue orchid outside his door.
I painted his portrait.
Keen to keep up my euphoria,
I fortified him with love. But
Large desires find it difficult
to enter in small hearts.
Women in love are pathetic
and I cannot be bothered, for now,
I am back to metaphysics
and my armpits gather hair.