Nicolas Born

What pain to flow
what coldness to be alone with the enemy
what a task to blow nitrogen into the forest!
            The silent action of the leaf-green in the green salad
            the noisy action of the green salad inside us.
Has the dandelion gone out of our lives
            the coltsfoot the grass harp?
What does the horse's flattened ear promise
what do the pains mean in the arms of the cleaning-woman
            whose world has been in the toilet for twenty years?
Why are carnations such dumb flowers
            so jaggedly crocheted
and why do I start dripping when I see tulips?
What's the low-flying swallow saying to me?
Who bites when the neighbour's dog growls
            he or I or the neighbour?
What does it mean if I get a tip from a stranger
            and hastily leave the house?
If my father's eyebrows grow together overnight
and the subscription salesman's facial scar goes red
if the taxi driver looks in the mirror for so long
            that his fare gets suspicious
and the roofer wants to put the boot into his apprentice
            but realises too late that he's stepping into space
if the teenagers in the club for teenagers roll their eyes
            after the fifth cola
if the starfighter pilot starts a long novel
            during the flight-break
if the major shareholder eating beef stroganoff
            finds a horsehoof in it
and the teller at Commerzbank
            takes off with his wife's housekeeping money
            after seeing “Viva Zapata”?
The calm before the storm
the thorn in the eye
the beam in the carpenter
hot love at 17
the investment manager's oath
ebb and flow
mini and maxi
and the public servant at social services
who leaves the office holding soap and a towel
            when thirty people are queued up?
The car on Monday the knocked-over lake
the unusual way in which property develops itself
            in the hand of the employee
those above
those below
the valley floor
the tightrope?

If I love you it snows on the earth
and if you leave me for my best friend
            then it is spring
and if you come back totally destitute
            it is autumn.
If nobody gives me something for nothing
            do I therefore have money?
And what point is there as a dead man in having a book
            about archaeology under your pillow?
If it's true that there must be wars
            then is it still important to take part in them?
Is it realistic if man and wife
            decide to move in together after the wedding?
If she a year later throws her dowry
at his head and he throws his
            rich vocabulary at hers
and if the window cleaner up on the IBM tower
falls under the spell of the punchcards
but then his survival instinct kicks in
            and he jumps off at the last minute?
What does it mean that I make poems
            and you make up all these stories?