"Blue Butterfly" (New poem, 2021/11/09)

morning vibe deafens my head
I shave the curtains
bum away from the dream
there's plenty of room for cupcakes
but I'm not hungry
although

when I open my mouth, poet
velvet, velvet cuts metal
in the Blue Butterfly
far from the wall
the most refined ladies await

morning birds swiftly cover the sun
it's weekend
in Berlin
and all the radios scream
apocalypse and propaganda
 
metal, metal cuts velvet
glass floor
liana ceiling
they raise their voices temple

I see last night's bottles lined up on the floor
next of kin to misery
sex of spinning martyrs

when I open my mouth, bird
evening apple pie, I open it
chips sparkle from the floors
a rack flows down from the ceiling
for the night
good night

the Blue Butterfly is silent now
exit stage from bright jazz
of automated reflexes
there is no one waiting outside
and the cabs are late

we are always the sun
against the bird wing
our voices get carried away
by children like twilight arrows

metal and velvet
the announcer drinks with us
like Brecht
and the girls from the wall