Bernhard Scudder 

Translator

orange tents
spring up
around the pub

and he asks himself
whether the flies that circle his beer
are real

*

the world economy is controlled by a gigantic baby
who stretches between the oceans

when it cries the shares drop one after another

like snow buntings
over a snowfield
on a snowbound winter
like snow buntings
over a snowbound winter
on a snowfield
like a snowfield
over snow buntings
on a snowbound winter
like a snowfield
over a snowbound winter
on snow buntings
like a snowbound winter
over snow buntings
on a snowfield
like a snowbound winter
over a snowfield
on snow buntings

and the coins in his pockets grow lighter

*

the gust of wind
that blows over the square
is intended for him alone

it flips up the tent flaps
so the bugging device
is revealed

and he askes himself
whether the girl on the cash register
isn’t mechanical in her movements

god nods
over the cinnamon doves

god nods
over shoes of plastic
over glittering bobbins
over pink pieces of candy

god nods
under dog’s lice-ridden pads
under the mosaic surfaced tables
under the butcher’s apron

god nods
with the cinnamon doves

insatiable moons
follow him home
by day and night alike

they hover over the rooftops
sneaking bites to eat

winter-summer-spring-and-autumn

their favorite food
pizza with reindeer moss
and ice cream

they are what they eat

musical instruments
of flesh and blood
music boxes
of bone and bristle

and going step by step and
step by step
and going step by step and
step by step

through the three dimensional part-song

while the bowels in inner monologue
skirt past the outer ear

the inner man
listens to himself
hears his ears listening

to the murmur of the pancreas
to the weeping of the spleen
to the rustling of the lungs
to the song of the kidneys
to the beat of the capillaries
to the whisper of the liver
to the creaking oif the nerves
to the mumbling of the small intestine

and so forth
so forth
forth

*

to say nothing of the bladder imp
that inflates one organ after another
and lets the off farting over the square

(two twinklings of an eye)


  

a golden hare leaps
from the eaves

*

sunflowers turn corollas
to the city

*

generations
of marble lions keep silent
in the mountain


  

(one breath)

(from red)


  

frothing light
whitewhite
and
whiter than white

*

untouched blood
around a bed
in the centre of a room
I sit upright in the bed
man alive!
with a cardboard in my lap
and a fountainpen in hand

*

chili pepper is red
it dries up
black as blood on its stalks
on a windowsill in my home
but outside there is a blue sky
and a sky blue sea

*

I try to balance the pen on its tip
I am not allowed to move
the blood is not from me
I am not allowed to move

*

I have waited since this morning

*

I am thinking of drinking the ink
black ink has the savour of apples
I got a full well
black/blacker/blackest when it is closed
and it flows from the pen
standing unsupported
on the cardboard
in my lap
in the bed
in the centre of the room

*

I wait for the door to open
she must be coming
I have to be absolutely still
she must be coming
I am going to be absolutely still
if she comes

*

now
as she opens the door
the light flows
whitewhite
out into the corridor
and she steals the blood
without noticing me
without me being able to move
without unbalancing the pen
when the blood disappears
into the pocket of her apron
and the light sucks
whiter than white
in her wake
out through the doorway
now

*

nighty-night daddy!
tomorrow I will get yellow+yellow+yellow
and then it is springtime

*

nighty-night!


  

(to green)

(in the company of a criminal)


  

cigars for little girls!
cigars for little girls!

cigars for little girls!
(whispering):
the littlest gets the bigestest
hahaha! hahaha! hahaha!
because she is the smallestest
(shouting):
cigars for little girls!
cigars for little girls!
cigars for little girls!


  

(in the company of a criminal)