5 poems.

Oberbaumbrücke

Success
I follow the golden stairs
Beat
Within the temple

Fear
Love on wings of gloom
Moan
All was these am I

Gleam
Nightfall lamp returns
Wild
Burdened cold twilight

Sick
Thru the world on hands and eyes
Touch
Stumbling archangels weep

Love
Roaming stranger silence
Tears
Marble full moon pyres

Walls
One face and the sky
Lips
Berlin, second class

Here’s peace
I rarely leave this place

Deepen the Distance

Storming culpable American bars & cafes
with the bride & curse
of midnight boogie guitars
singing out life in whispered lo-fi spasms
highways of ready-made boys
trapped in her scarf
stage imminent angel-hawkers
in silken runaround alphabet hands
waves of deafening staccato
loser/poet eulogies

Sleeping long in the wintertime, under her hat
longer in the summer, even, in her straw umbrella
butterflies do this, she said – they also cry out, habitually
when they write my new set of lyrics

She says:
often when the burgundy lightbulbs dim
all unimportant lights exit stage
& songs projected on ego screens
manner & deepen the distance we shared
you lowdown poky apostle
I think of stars in the rain
little prospects of sand

She-God

Through open portals of truth
Pass archangel dark
I find you anew

In muffled lust
The lips that press
Our stars anew

Your heavy eyelids
Nodding in heaven
Slyly towards the moon

Your hand out of view
The quiet stay
A town somewhere is burning

The She-God
Of ancient Egyptians
My wind-flung lover

Caterpillar Mountains

I should write about mountains
challenges, expeditions
not about loneliness of antennas in spike
chrome dusk, however, am disputing
w/ them often, and it obliges a...

cut open
scene
filth

...not easy to change your profession
storm CAT
caps & feel repulsion
in the night-abyss cinema
death draws more than
the sky
in the morning such as the...
wait!
I do not even want to be *dreaming* about
mountains
careful,
being mindful
not to write

1883

Towering corpses clothe you
melancholy ships
say farewell to the gallery
you’re fancy half-shut flower
promontory of lips
ripples on gray leaves
lilies in autumn silence
deep-asleep, I know it’ll snow
below our grass, so pale
the mirror holy, golden wavering
flame, deep sunset fields
where broken music appears
with tropical ancient readings
suffer some or down you stop
in curly dreamful 1883